Autumn at Forty-Five
By: Guy New York
Tags: Sex, Relationships, Fiction, Erotica, Aging

Autumn arrives with a face I haven’t seen in twenty-five years. Her freckles are still just as bright as mine, but her red hair has hints of gray, which speak of a life I don’t know.

Her hotel room is bright with a view of Central Park, and I realize I haven’t asked what she does or why she’s here. An old message from an old friend was enough to call me into the city with no hopes of anything but satisfying my curiosity.

“It’s so good to see you again,” she says when she opens the door; I hug her and hold her tightly, and it’s all true. She’s familiar in every way but one.

“I want to say you haven’t changed a bit, but it’s ridiculous. Maybe it’s that you feel like I remember. Or possibly I’m just a sentimental jackass, and I missed you.”

“You’re still awkwardly charming. And honestly, you don’t look all that different either. I might even have recognized you on the street if we hadn’t planned this little reunion. Thanks for coming in.”

The bottle of wine was better than anything we snuck in high school, and the view of the city was so different from the view of my backyard out my father’s bedroom window. The music from her phone was old and familiar, and I nearly laughed as the memories poured back. If I closed my eyes I could still taste her kiss.

“It’s so good to see you,” I said, taking a long sip of wine. “I was possibly too excited when you messaged me. And my god, are you still beautiful.”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping you were still a bit of a dog.”

“Who me?”

“Who else do you call when he walks out after fifteen years of marriage? Where do you go if not home when you’re lost and unsure of everything?”

“I didn’t realize,” I said, taking her hand without thinking. “I’m sorry?”

She laughed and shook her head even as she moved closer to me on the couch.

“Do you ever wonder why we held back so much? God, we were young and had so much energy, and all we did was lie on your father’s bed, teasing each other until we couldn’t stand it.”

“I wanted you more than anything,” I said, offering the truth too quickly. “Maybe we weren’t ready.”

“That’s hard to imagine now.”

“I’m not sure I could tease you for hours anymore,” I said, watching her stand and step into the window. I followed her, wrapping my arms around her waist with familiar affection.

“I couldn’t stand it if you did.”

“What do you want?” I asked, my lips brushing the back of her neck as my hands felt the warmth of her soft sweater and what lay beneath it.

“Sex? Freedom? To be wanted? To not think for at least a half-hour? I don’t know. Maybe to remember what it was like to have someone stare at me like I was better than I was.”

“I idolized you to the point of objectification. Christ, I was so stupid.”

“I craved it.”

Before I could think of a response, she turned in my arms until our bodies were pressed against one another. I pushed a strand of red and gray behind one ear and leaned in, wondering if it was going to happen. If after all these years, we might still find it easy.

Our kiss was warm and tender with enough urgent desire to feel familiar. She wrapped her arms around me, pulled me closer, and before I knew it, my hands were on her ass as we collapsed onto the bed, kissing like it was our first time.

“Do you want this?” She asked, looking up into my eyes. “I showed up, wanting to be devoured, and I didn’t ask you.”

“I’ve wanted to fuck you for twenty-five years,” I said. “Is that good enough?”

“As long as you do it.”

And then we were done talking. I kissed her mouth as my hands slid under her sweater, finding her breasts bare and soft beneath my hands. Moments later, it was her chest against mine as we struggled with buttons and jeans, and I had to pause as I held her and remembered. All of that teenage desire swelled up within me once more, and my body responded in kind.

I kissed down her neck, found each breast, and then her stomach. Her pants came off in a tangle of laughter and logistics, but we managed each sock and each leg until she was covered in black lace and nothing else.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” I said, looking up from between her legs. “And I’ve wanted to do this for far too long.”

She cried out when I opened my mouth on her through the cotton fabric, but she gripped my hair tightly. My hands on her thighs, her legs spread wide, and her moans growing louder with each point of contact, I finally pushed the fabric to one side and tasted her.

Her screams were familiar and new and desperate and music. Her laugh was needy, and her pleading drove me forward. I kissed her and tasted her wondering how I had ever held back, and each time she told me she wanted more, I couldn’t believe it was happening.

By the time I was naked, and between her legs, our kiss was frantic and raw. Her hand wrapped around me as she held me firmly, and we finally stopped.

“Are you going to fuck me?” She asked, her breath short and quick.

“Yes,” was all I could say.

“Are you here or there? I mean, do you wish we had done it then?”

“We did what we could do when we were young. And besides, I wouldn’t trade these twenty-five years of want for one moment of quick teenage bliss. I’ve wanted to fuck you forever, and now I’m going to.”

“Yes,” she moaned, pulling me down to a kiss as I felt her open around me. Her hands move to my ass as she took me within her, and all those years of fantastic desire flooded my senses. All I could taste was her lips, all I could feel was her body enveloping me, and all I knew was that I was fucking Autumn, and it was perfect.

From slow and steady to quick and rough, we fucked, and we fucked, first on her back and then on mine. Looking up at her, I saw her now, and I saw her then, and I saw her life flicker across her face, including all the joy and pain of two decades. She laughed as she pressed her hands again my chest, closed her eyes, and moved over me, teasing me just as I teased her.

We ended with her on her stomach, my cock inside her as I reached beneath her and rubbed her clit as we fucked. I kissed her neck as she felt my weight against her, and she cried out as she came, both of us lost somewhere between memory and dream.

With both hands on her ass, I pushed into her, pulled her to me, and began to come as well, my overwhelming need letting go in one final cry of adoration. Collapsing against her back, her hand between her legs as I moved slowly, we moved between tears and laughter. When she turned to face me, I kissed her eyes and her nose like I had done so many times all those years before. She playfully slapped my cheek and pulled me closer.

“It’s good to see you again,” she said.

“Yeah, thanks for inviting me up.”

“Well, I was just happened to be in town.”

“I’m glad you looked me up.”

“You’re still ridiculous.”

“You still make my stomach do summersaults.”

“Do you have to go?” She asked, sitting up in bed and finding her glass of wine.

“Not unless you want me to.”

“In that case,” she said, reaching out for my hand. “I seem to remember we had some very chaste showers back in school. Do you want to change that?”

“Yes,” I told her, following her to the bathroom where she turned on the water to nearly scorching hot. “Yes, I do.”