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Right after they met on a beach outside of Boston, that first kiss was the favorite part of Robert's memory of Emma. If it wasn't enough that she kissed him, removed her bikini top, felt him through his jeans, and sucked him, she asked him to reciprocate his sexual pleasure and give her oral sex too. Even though it was interrupted by her father, he'd never forget making love to her before fucking her.
"Lick me Robert," she said in a voice that sounded so softly sweet and feminine. Had he not heard her ask him to lick her, he never would have thought that someone who looked like her would ask someone who looked like him to give her oral sex. "I want to feel your fingers and your tongue inside of me," said Emma as if asking him for a massage instead of asking him for cunnilingus.
With Robert happy to oblige, he watched her remove her bikini bottoms. Not embarrassed or ashamed, she showed him her naked body as if she was a nude model and he was a photographer. With him never thinking that a woman's body could be so artistically pleasing and so aesthetically beautiful, in hindsight, he wished he had a camera. If he had a camera, he wondered if she would have allowed him to take a photo of her naked. Now that he saw her naked and saw her naked pussy and her round, firm, naked ass, he couldn't believe he even harbored the thought of her being a man.
She was shaved and her pussy was seemingly as smooth as a baby's ass. He remembered quivering with the sexual anticipation of touching her and feeling her while holding her and kissing her. He couldn't wait to finger her. He couldn't wait to lick her. He couldn't wait to taste her. He couldn't wait to make love to her and to fuck her. He couldn't wait to give her as much sexual pleasure as she had given him with her kisses, by allowing him to feel her naked breasts, and by briefly blowing him. He wondered what she sounded like having an orgasm. He couldn't wait to hear her having an orgasm.
Over and again, the memory of her and of that one fateful, sexual day played through his mind. Over and again, he remembered every sight and every sound of that day as if it all happened yesterday. Sometimes, he remembered her as if she was there standing in front of him. Sometimes she was just a fuzzy, faded memory. Remembering her in her blue bikini, topless, and/or naked, should he see her fully dressed, he wondered if he'd even recognize her. Yet, no matter what she was wearing or wasn't wearing, he'd always recognize someone who was so unforgettable.
The memory of her didn't start fading until he had Lorraine in his life. The memory of her didn't start fading until years after he met her on the beach and made love to her in her bedroom. The memory of her didn't start fading until he had to confront the truth that he'd never see her again. He'd never touch her, hold her, kiss her and/or make love to her again. A bitter pill to swallow, not fair and not right, why would God allow her in his life and then take her away?
To be continued...
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