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Babes In The Wood
written by:
Clarity

Babes In The Wood

The house hadn't been lived in for years and was one step away from derelict. It wasn't boarded up, as there was no need this far to the edge of town.

The chances were minuscule that both of them should return to the house on the same day at the same time. It shortened the odds a little that it was ten years to the day from when they moved in, but it was still a pretty freaky coincidence.

Ryan came from the freeway, so he parked across the road. He got out of his car and looked over at the curling shingles, peeling siding and time-frosted glass that used to be his home. He walked gingerly up the rickety wooden steps thinking, "A broken stairway to a broken home."

All the windows were thick with grime and it was impossible to see inside until he wiped away a few layers with the edge of his hand. He lowered his eye to the patch he'd cleared. Inside, there were a few old pieces of furniture that he didn't recognize. He walked across the porch, rubbed some grime off the dining room window, and peered in. The wallpaper, that was just about still hanging on, was familiar. He looked for the dent in the wall, and was almost sure he could see it.

More memories than he expected came flying at him, each bringing its own emotion. There was the hope and happiness of the day they moved in, the exuberance of the time she was sitting naked on that very porch, waiting for him to come home from work. The closeness of the night they watched the fire bugs from the porch and talked about children. And, sadly, there was the shattering heartbreak of the day she walked down those steps and never came back.

Ryan shook free of the aching discomfort of this last memory, and walked back to the front door. One of the small glass panes was broken and he stooped to look through the opening. The hallway led straight down the center of the house from the front door, clear across the kitchen to the back door. The door at the rear had less of its glass intact and, just for a moment, he visualized Lauren looking straight back at him.

It took a few seconds to sink in, and then reality knocked him sideways—it was Lauren. Her features were unmistakable, and the look of shock that formed when their eyes locked sent a chill though him.

He was in no rush to walk around the house but, as he moved, his body was being infused with adrenaline pumped by an overworking heart. She was still standing at the door when he got there. He stopped a few feet away from her, but it was close enough to see that the years had been kind to his first love.

Her hair was still the blackest he'd ever seen. It was the same shoulder-length it always was, but the fringe had been replaced by bangs that wandered down the edges of her face to rest against her cheeks. Her startling indigo-blue eyes appeared a little dazed and showed several tiny age marks at their edges, but they still shone and enticed. She was obviously slightly bemused, and tried to smile—her naturally dark lips parted to reveal several white teeth.

It was a smile he never expected to see again, let alone here, today.

On her slim, five-feet-six, frame she wore an oversized Air Force-style leather jacket, tight blue jeans, and a plain white crew-necked top that curved with her small, well-defined chest. Her slimline sneakers had a few miles on them and he instantly noticed that, as always, she wasn't wearing socks. Just like the cute lines of her nose, some things never changed.

"I..." It was impossible for Ryan to know whether he should smile, step closer, or run. "I... just... Wow—imagine seeing you here."

"Imagine." She looked calmer now, but Ryan knew her voice well enough to hear the undertone that matched his shock and uncertainty.

"I was just passing. Thought I'd take a look and..." Ryan swallowed and steadied himself. "I guess you know what today is?"

She raised a hand and brushed away a few stray strands of her shining hair. It was a motion that was so familiar, and made him want to reach forward and touch her. "Of course." She nodded; no point in avoiding the obvious. "I'm surprised you remembered though."

"There's a lot of memories in this house." He moved towards the door, and tried the handle. When it showed signs of giving, leant his shoulder against it. "Wanna check it out?" He grinned—the door was open.

Lauren led the way into the deathly silent house. She paused to look around the kitchen while Ryan picked up a broken picture that had fallen from the living room wall. He thought he recognized the frame, but doubted his instinct. "Remember the first pancakes you made there." He pointed to the battered and long-dormant range.

"Black Frisbees." For the first time he heard a lighter tone in her voice. "You still ate them." She looked up to find his eyes. "That was a nice thing."

In the dining room, Ryan immediately started checking the wall. He found the depression easily. "This is where you threw the pot at me."

"And missed." Lauren giggled. "I was jealous. You and Janie Heatherton. What was I thinking?"

"We were young." Ryan started the obvious. "We had no chance. Hard to believe we lasted as long as we did sometimes."

He stopped, looked at her and realized she was remembering as well.

"Maybe." she considered. "But I didn't come here because it was all bad. We sure were young though. Thinking of this place, I always think of the children's story, Babes in the Wood."

"We weren't abandoned." He vaguely recalled the story.

"No. Not by anyone but ourselves anyway." Lauren turned and started upstairs. "I guess you can tell me now. Did you and Janie ever..."

Ryan sniffed at the notion. "No."

"Good to know." She paused and looked down at him, before smirking, turning away and allowing her incredible ass to keep him stationary as he watched it. A decade had done no damage there.

Climbing slowly, one step at a time, he replayed the time they didn't even make it all the way upstairs, ripping each others' clothes and frantically making love like time itself was running out. He counted, figuring it was the fifth stair her ass rested on while he thrust into her, sweat running from them both as their hands tried to be everywhere at once. Afterwards they laughed. Not a giggle, or playful laugh, but deep, passionate heaves. Ten years on and he'd never recaptured anything like those moments.

At the top of the stairs he paused on the landing, scanned the bare floorboards and ran a weary hand around his neck. He stepped into the bathroom and saw the sink, now stained from years of neglect. Looking into the cracked mirror with his soft brown eyes, he thoughtfully felt the six-hour growth on his chin.

He stood there for almost two minutes, staring at his reflection and wondering at how little it had changed in ten years, no matter how much he'd grown up. His faded Levis, give or take an inch, could easily be the same ones from back in the day but the plain white shirt was well-pressed and gave him a clean look that had probably improved over the years. His athletic frame was still evident and his face showed a gentle poise that he had grown into. For once he didn't check the hairline that had receded a little and finished his reverie with an empty smile to the mirror.

After a jarring glance into what was going to be the nursery, he joined Lauren in the bedroom. She was staring out the window.

The room had changed color, and the only things left were an old mattress and a nightstand with a broken leg. Nothing in the room belonged to them except the memories. Ryan figured the memories were the most valuable thing anyway.

They were young back then, and learning to love was a tough assignment. It was easy to wish you knew what you did now, but he realized he only learned some of those things because of Lauren. He remembered signing simple contracts with each other, setting out childish rules about commitment and love. The paper was pink. They wrote the same words to each other, and exchanged them. Neither of them broke any rules, but they still broke each others' hearts. He still had his copy, in a box somewhere.

It was all of the usual things that caught them out—money, immaturity, jealousy, stupidity. They had a full set of those cards. It seemed like every night they were either making love or picking a new fight, each one cutting deeper. But, every morning, they woke up in each other's arms. Sometimes they even woke up together.

"I wish we hadn't fought so much." Lauren didn't turn around.

"Me too." Ryan laughed. "The rest of the time was fun." His gaze fixed on the snapped leg of the nightstand. "Remember the time we spilled rice and noodles in the bed? God! And the time we were in the shower so long the water went cold."

He looked over and saw that she hadn't moved. Her hand fumbled in her leather jacket and he understood.

"You okay?" He moved to her. When he saw her face, she was dabbing her eyes with a tissue.

"You made me cry." She tried to laugh, and failed. "Again."

"I'm sorry." His words fell heavily to the dusty floor. There was no echo, but he heard them over and over again, reminding him this was the first time he ever said them to her.

"It's funny—this house brought us so close together. And, at the same time, it ripped us apart." He started to pace the room, trying to lighten his tone. "It was such a great feeling—moving in, building a home, being with you..." He stopped, conscious he was thinking about their lovemaking. "But paying for everything, not knowing how to compromise, or even when to compromise... Man, that just sucked. I... I just had no idea."

Lauren finally turned away from the window, revealing her reddened eyes as she looked over to him.

"Neither of us had any idea," she consoled. "We knew how to hold hands and make love. We didn't know shit about paying bills and grocery shopping."

Ryan laughed and their eyes fixed. "It's good to see you."

"You too." Lauren walked into a familiar hug.

She stayed in his arms longer than he expected and his senses began firing the way only Lauren had ever woken them. He felt the lightest touch of her forehead against his cheek, and smelled the freshness of her silky hair. She sighed beneath the bulky leather jacket—a comfortable sigh, but a forlorn one.

"You still think about us?"

"Not too often." He tried to sound offhand. "Maybe once every hour or so. More on a bad day."

Lauren pulled out of his arms and looked up at him with a beaming smile.

"Fool." She playfully punched his chest. "Only you have ever made me laugh and cry in the same minute."

Ryan didn't follow her out of the bedroom, but paced around the floor and remembered long gone moments of passion and youthful innocence. He sighed and sat on the windowsill with his back to the glass. He could hear her footfalls in the other rooms. Things started to hurt. Maybe he shouldn't have come after all?

"Tell me this," Lauren marched purposefully back into the bedroom. "What moment do you remember most? What's the one image you'll never forget from this house? From us?" There was a new light in her eyes. He recognized the passionate demand, but this was a little more muted than when he last saw it.

He answered without hesitation. "The night we crept downstairs with no clothes on. You got a soda from the refrigerator and threw it to me."

Lauren sniffed. "I know, and it exploded."

"Yes," he nodded, "but you insisted on licking the soda off me." She blushed and looked away, seemingly caught again by an open wound. "I remember how beautiful you were in the light of the open refrigerator." He slapped his hands on his thighs and stood up. "Most beautiful thing I saw in all my life I think."

"I should go." She didn't move.

"Me too." Ryan stopped walking towards her.

"Just one thing though." Lauren tried to look up at him, but failed at first. When her eyes did finally meet his, they were red, and showed just a hint of fear. Ryan said nothing, and waited. "Would you hug me again?"

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, this time reaching under the jacket to feel her body and pull her to him. After a few seconds, he felt her exhale the tension.

"I've missed that." She maneuvered herself closer, her thigh resting against his, warm and inviting. This hug was longer, and she hugged back. They had been too young to handle the heat the house generated, but the flame hadn't died.

As soon as she looked up, he knew to kiss her. Their lips were timid for just a moment, then pressed harder and allowed their tongues to remember their dance steps. He felt her hands make slight circular movements on his lower back and immediately his cock started twitching its appreciation for the affection.

Her jacket slipped off easily when he eased it off her shoulders from the inside.

"I'm married." She kissed him again. "I shouldn't do this."

"So am I." He tugged at her waistband. "Take your pants off."

While she undid her belt and pulled her top over her head, Ryan quickly slipped out of his shirt, threw it onto the old mattress, and started to slide his jeans down his legs. His heart was racing the way it hadn't for years. This was how it was supposed to be. This was how it always was with Lauren, no matter how slowly they made love.

They hurriedly stripped, covering the mattress with their clothes as best they could. When her jeans had joined his, and she was down to just her bra and panties, she stood before him and looked intently into his eyes as though making one final check that they should do this. Ryan kissed her and she reached behind to undo her bra.

He was cupping her breast and rubbing the nipple with his thumb and forefinger before she pulled the bra away. He looked down and saw those familiar smallish boobs with their uncommonly dark nipples that were already hard. They weren't the only things that were hard. Ryan felt her hand find the front of his briefs. She squeezed tightly, but her fingers felt soft compared to his excitement. His free hand slipped down and paused at her hip, his fingers feeling the line of her thin panties, itching to get inside.

She was inside his first, her hand eagerly wriggling like a snake down his shaft and wrapping her fingers around him. Her fingers stretched down to his balls and pushed playfully at them. He gasped, already breathless with the building heat.

Still kissing her in a passionate rush, Ryan felt the front of her panties, pushing hard at the heat source with his whole hand and delighting that he felt her push back. He wanted to keep rubbing right where he was, but her pulling on his cock and the acceleration of the moment took over. His hand was inside her panties before her realized, his fingers along and between her folds, gliding in the liquid silk. "Oh God," he vaguely heard himself breathe.

His hand slipped out as easily as it slipped in as Lauren pulled away and eased to her knees in front of him. Without hesitation, she deftly pulled his briefs over the top of his erection and down his legs. Her eyes didn't flicker as she gazed at him, very erect and beautifully shaped. "Hello." She licked her lips involuntarily.

She continued to survey his cock without touching it, watching it twitch with anticipation less than six inches from her face. She placed a single finger on the underside and ran it down his length, then around his balls. Ryan looked down as she quietly worshipped him. He saw a huge smile on her face just before she leaned towards him and kissed the tip of his cock.

She took the weight of his balls in one hand and used the other to grip his cock firmly at its base. Then she took the head into her mouth, clamping her lips around the rim and teasing the underside of the head with her tongue, rubbing it back and forward just under the tip. Ryan closed his eyes and the years peeled away.

Lauren obviously remembered things too. Just as his balls started to retract, she stopped the rubbing with her tongue, pulled her mouth off him, and licked at the underside of his shaft.

Her hand closed a little tighter around his balls now, squeezing them gently and sending sparks up his shaft. Then she closed her mouth over the head again, clamping him tight and rubbing her tongue back along the underside of the tip. Again, the wave of pleasure built as fast as he'd ever known, and again, she knew exactly when to lift her mouth away from him.

She stood up slowly, running her hands up the outside of his legs, until their lips met again.

When they broke the kiss Ryan whispered, "Lie down." It wasn't an order. Nothing to do with domination—just facilitating the moment.

Lauren pulled off her panties and lay back on their discarded clothes. Ryan looked down and saw a look on her face he recognized. It was the look that said, "Nothing else in this world matters but you, me, and our sex." It was something between them that they could never be free of.

She settled with her legs apart, inviting. Her swollen sex was showing glistening pink. Her chest heaved with the anticipation. Ryan eased down to his knees, never taking his eyes from her pussy. His tongue ran around his lips as he savored the coming taste.

As he closed on her, Ryan twisted his head sideways a little and brought the tip of his tongue to softly touch her pussy lips. His eyes closed as he lapped his way up the outer folds of her pussy. She tasted just the same and ten years of his life disappeared in a lick. Lauren was so wet that she seemed to wash over his tongue with every slow run it made up her slit. With another long stroke of his tongue he arrived at her clit and began probing it gently. Each touch from him triggered her hips' writhing.

He was just about to push a finger into her when he felt her hands on the sides of his head, easing his face up from her sex. Her face burned with wanton desire and he knew it was time.

He let his fingers continue to rub her as he crawled two knee-steps up the mattress towards her. "I need you," she said. She reached for him, grasped his hard-on, and guided it straight to her pussy. Her legs were even wider apart now, and ready for him. He felt harder than normal, bursting.

He held himself above her while she guided the head of his cock to her pussy lips. He pushed and slid home. His eyes were closed as all other senses closed down so he could feel the moment at its finest. When he reached the end of the tunnel, he opened his eyes. Lauren was looking intently at him. "I've missed you."

"Nothing ever felt like this." He brushed a stray hair away from her face and withdrew his cock a ways so he could feel himself moving inside her. Even on that first stroke, she was pushing her pelvis up to meet him and grinding herself against him.

He felt her hands come along his sides and gently rest against his hips, starting to guide and encourage his thrusts. Lauren's face took on that look of giddy passion and need he would never forget, and had never found anywhere else. She pulled a little harder on his hips and he plunged deeper into her warm ocean. His balls were tingling already.

"Switch." Lauren whispered urgently.

It was a request he knew only too well. Immediately he rolled over and allowed Lauren to straddle him, all without them becoming uncoupled. Lauren shook her hair away from her face, let her fingertips draw slowly down his chest, and worked her pussy all around him.

Her technique for moving up and down on him was simply to pinch her thighs together, move up a few inches, and let herself fall slowly back down. The first time she settled back onto his cock, a broad smile spread across her features. "Think we can still do it?" She spoke slowly, never breaking contact with his widening eyes. Ryan nodded. Some things you just knew would always work.

He reached up and took hold of her nipple, pinching it hard, the way she always insisted he did. His other hand eased along to explore the open contours of her pussy, pausing as he found the unmistakable button that was her clit. She was swollen, and beginning to ride him harder, so he allowed his fingertips to move with her, stroking her, and teasing her. When she reached behind and found his balls, he knew she hadn't forgotten their timing, and how to make this all work the way no one else ever could.

Her hand on his balls and her rhythm on his cock told him exactly how much to touch her. At the same time, she knew she could sense his moment by how tight his balls got and when his pelvis lost control. She controlled his moment by drawing her fingernails across his scrotum. It was all physical, yet felt telepathic.

Ryan saw her eyes close slowly and felt her fingertips run along him. He thrust up one time to meet her descending body and it was enough to tip the balance for his climax. Just as the boiling pleasure rushed through his body, he felt the first contraction of her pussy as it clamped around his twitching cock.

Now on autopilot, Lauren continued to squeeze herself up and down on him, her head thrown backwards as her body took the full jolt of each orgasmic wave. Ryan pulled hard alternately on her nipples and massaged her clit while she moved, urging her pleasure to last with his.

He grunted at crescendo of his climax and felt the first shot of come pulse into her. He continued to gush into her, and each stream was another turn on the pressure-release valve of his orgasm. Lauren's pussy pulled tight one last time, then she slumped forward, one hand on his chest, breathing deeply, fucked.

The house went quiet again when Lauren rolled off and lay beside him. Their breathing seemed to echo as the ghosts of their lovemaking fled back into the floors and walls. He reached for her hand and their fingers found familiar slots between each other. He looked over to see her staring at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling, her nipples still hard.

There was no shame, no desperate running away and no apparent guilt as they silently gathered their clothes and pulled them back on. Ryan held her jacket and she slipped her arms through it. When she turned and looked at him, she smiled. They were close enough to kiss, but they didn't.

"You okay?" he asked.

Lauren nodded, gave his hand one final squeeze, and turned towards the door.

Ryan closed the back door behind them, and walked her around to the front of the house. As they stood by the broken stairs, wondering how this new goodbye went, Ryan asked, "Should I... can I call you sometime?"

"Probably not." She tried to smile.

"See you here in ten years?"

"Probably."

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The author of this story: Clarity

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