Roller Coaster part three - the gap years
Following the liaison at her place I headed back to work, across country. The weeks went by, then the months, with only occasional contact by text. About half way through the year I got a lengthy email from Jacobite. Her guy wasn't coming back. He'd set up house in the middle east with some girl from work and my girl was divorcing. All pretty predictable. She would get the big check and alimony for the house and kids. So she wasn't going to be in poverty. Not straight way, anyway. And I wasn't paying for it. What's not to like! I was looking forward to occasional romps with her for years to come and the texts became a little more frequent and more like sexts.
Then she dumped me! I got a text saying she'd met somebody new, he was moving in and she couldn't see me again. So guy No 2. It was a pity but not the end of the world. Plenty fish in the sea, I consoled myself. The weeks and months became years when I lost contact with her completely. She changed her phone so my attempted texts went unanswered. I got on with life and work, never forgetting her and sometimes reminiscing about the excellent times we'd had. Maybe I should have married her and once or twice I was tempted. But I always kept coming back to the reality of her burn rate. It knew no boundaries, it was all consuming.
It was fully five years on when out of the blue I got a text from a number I didn't recognise but with words that were unmistakably hers. Fancy lighting up with an old flame? I responded immediately and we took up where we'd left off previously. That didn't really surprise me because we were always an item, even if it ran on fumes for a while. We joshed around with some flirty stuff. Guy No 2 had come and gone. An emotional backet case, she said, who eventually beat her up. What a pity, I thought. What a waste when there are so many pleasurable things she could do. There would be two sides to that story, I felt sure. Of course she'd quickly burned through the pay off she got from guy No 1 and As expected, no more alimony was payable. I suspected that had something to do with it but I never probed much because I had no intention of filling the gap.
She asked if I'd like to see her again.
"Of course, but how's that gonna work?" I asked her.
"I could some visit you," she replied sweetly.
"You wouldn't let me screw you after all this time," I objected.
"Wanna bet? I need some fluid transfusion." This had always been her code for sex. So we were on!
"It's a long haul," I reminded her.
"That's OK, you can send me the plane tickets..." As casually as if she was arranging a pizza delivery.
So I arranged a return flight for her and she arrived on a Friday to stay for a whole week! I was going off to a seminar the following Friday and she would fly home the same day. Actually from the same airport but at different times.
After she got off the plane I went to meet her at the connecting railway station and brought her back to the apartment to dump her things. The apartment had two bedrooms and she placed all her stuff in the spare one before we went out for dinner. After a nice meal at a local restaurant we returned to the apartment and started getting ready for bed. I went off to my bedroom and got ready for her arrival after a bathroom break. I waited. And waited. Nothing happened. I got up to find out what was going on and found her getting ready to bed down in the spare room. Eh? That wasn't the plan I'd had in mind. She'd got bigger in the intervening years, of course, but that made her tits even more ginormous. With a bra on it caused them to sort fold back on themselves at the top.
"What's up?" I asked, nonplussed.
"I thought you'd prefer to sleep on your own," she cooed.
"Oh right, I see," I said, not seeing. "Who said anything about sleeping? And you've lost your bet."
Giggling she pushed me into my bed and so began an incredible fuck-fest of a week. Mutual hand jobs, blow jobs, lickety lick, missionary with her frantically wanking, doggy with reach back self help. One time I was gorging on the strawberry nipples when she reached down and just brought herself off to orgasm accompanied by the em and ems. Might have been faking but it looked pretty convincing to me. Every morning before I left for work we'd have a quick bang and every evening after dinner or a show we'd set to for the full works. By the time the week was up I was ready for a rest. And she never once spent the whole night in my room, sloping off to the spare room in the wee hours. Which I didn't query because sleeping alone suits me just fine. On the travel day I left first for work, she pulled the door to lock and that was that.
That all happened in early fall and the next few months went past with some exchanges of texts but nothing serious and no physicals. Until the following spring when she must have been ready for another transfusion because she asked if we could do it all over again. So I set up more flights and when Jacobite arrived she was more than ready to receive.
/Finale