He Tasted Like my Self Awakening

I knew that he looked at me, but he was just a kid, only 19 years old when I first met him. I was 32 at the time, married to an older man who was far more interested in discussing sports over a few cold beers than in me, or anything I had to say. At 19 years old, AJ walked with the cocky swagger that jocks tend to develop in high school, but whenever I saw him, he was the epitome of good manners and easy conversation. Still, there were times I felt his eyes move over my body like a lover’s caress. Sometimes, I'd feel the heavy weight of his stare and I'd glance up, my eyes unexpectedly would lock with his, and each time I would squirm beneath the intensity of his gaze.

My husband was best friends with AJ’s dad, he was thrilled that their family had moved back to our boring little town. He'd known AJ since he was born, and liked to boast how he'd even changed his diapers. AJ’s two younger brothers were the same age as my kids, we soon fell into the easy routine where holidays and weekends were spent together. We could be found on summer weekends swimming and barbecuing, fall and winter traveling to nearby towns for youth sports.

Our families were close and spent so much time together that the younger boys began referring to each other as cousins. AJ wasn't around as often, since he was old enough to escape with his own friends. When he was around, he was always the odd one out. He was 8 years older than the oldest kid, he was 13 years my junior, and I was the youngest of the adults. Too old for the kids table, too young for the adults'. And while I found his admiration flattering, it wasn’t anything that I reciprocated, it wasn’t anything I’d ever given consideration to.

Until.

Years had passed. And while it seems like nothing ever changes living in a boring, little town in Nowhere USA, the truth of the matter is that things are changing everyday. People change, children grow older, couples get stuck in ruts, love grows stagnant, babies are born, old people die, new relationships flourish, and marriages fall apart. While nothing ever changes, nothing stays the same either.

My marriage was in serious trouble. Our life had become routine, our sex life was nearly non-existent, and behaviors that didn’t grate my nerves during happier times were becoming more intolerable with every passing day. AJ’s dad was at my house 3 to 4 times a week, drunk in the garage with my husband, who preferred standing around outside to coming in with me and the children. I went to work, I came home, I drove children to school, and practice, and doctor’s visits, and games. I did laundry and cooked and cleaned, I organized carpools, chaperoned field trips, and coordinated halftime snacks with other moms. I did most of it on my own, asking for help from my husband was met with open hostility, or with flat out ridicule that I was unable to handle anything on my own. In hindsight, I can see that I was the one who changed, I’d grown sick and tired of shouldering the responsibility for the entire household while my husband felt like his responsibilities were over once he’d clocked out everyday at work. Add to that the manipulative machinations and emotional abuse of an unhappy drunk, and it's easy to understand how desperately unhappy I'd become.

AJ pulls up in the driveway, he is 23 now. Still a kid in my eyes, although he is a cute one with blonde good looks and a spark in his eyes that promises a fun time or a whole lot of trouble. Probably both. He’s grown a bit bolder over the years and while the flirtatious comments are always playful, I know there’s an element of truth to his words that his teasing tone can’t quite hide.

The music is playing and there’s a slight breeze, just enough to stir the hot night air. It’s summer in the desert, still in the mid 80′s at 10 pm. I’m sitting in a lawn chair in the driveway, long legs stretched out using the bumper of my car as a footrest. My husband and AJ’s dad are in the garage, ignoring me as usual. AJ leans on the hood of my car in front of me and we talk, about what I don’t remember. He’s flirting again, and I like it, I’m flirting back this time. His blue eyes look at me in a way that reminds me I’m still an attractive woman, even if my husband doesn’t notice.

Suddenly, I’m aware that AJ’s shirt is off. Was he wearing a shirt when he walked up? I don’t remember. I’ve seen this boy without a shirt a million times, but right now...I’m actually seeing him. How did my eyes never notice before that he had grown up so nicely? Hmmmmm. His core is lean with tan skin taut over well defined abs. My gaze lingers there, I can’t help but think of my husbands round, pink belly covered with coarse hair turned gray. Did he ever have abs like this boy? Hmmmmm.

AJ’s skin is smooth and hairless, and I notice his hip bones jutting out, the ab muscles taper into a V that disappear beneath his basketball shorts, ending with a noticeable bulge. I look up and my skin flushes, he is grinning cheekily, he knows I was admiring his young frame. “See something you like?” He asks innocently. Sassy mouth.

I reply something unintelligible, and for some reason I reach out and grab one of his hips. Maybe to establish that I'm in charge, maybe to show him that he's not as hot as he thinks, maybe just because I have an urge to grab those hipbones of his that wave to me like an invitation. I dig my fingers and thumb into his skin, it’s warm and smooth. I have an urge to put my mouth there, suddenly I want to trace that V with my tongue, I want to catch his hip bones between my teeth. I’m shocked at the thought, but still my fingers pinch and pull and squeeze thoughtfully. He jumps in surprise at my unexpected touch and glances into the garage. His dad and my husband are still paying no attention to us. He moves a bit closer and now both my hands are grasping his hips, his eyes lock with mine, and an unexpected tension is born as the energy shifts between us. His skin is hot and alive beneath my hands, there is an electric current traveling from my fingertips to his hips, through our bodies and awakening within me a hunger that had gone neglected as my marriage had grown cold.

I let go of him, scared at the direction of my thoughts, relieved to see my husband still oblivious to the storm brewing in the driveway. AJ laughs a bit, but his chuckle is nervous and I can tell that the effect of my touch was startling for him as well.

Later, laying in bed it was AJ’s face I saw when I closed my eyes, remembering the hot, smooth skin of his belly beneath my fingertips. I place the fingers to my lips, as if to taste his skin still there. My body is hungry, I reach out to my husband and run my hand along his spine. His skin is leathery, roughly covered with coarse gray hair...so different from AJ’s smooth, soft skin. He grunts a bit, I press my lips to his neck, offering my body to him. He pushes me off. “I’m tired,” he says as he rolls away from me. I lay back on my side of the bed, empty and unfulfilled. Again.

Weeks pass into months and the relationship with AJ and I has changed. It is charged with electricity, the sexual tension between us builds every time we see each other. There are stolen kisses in the hallway, hands groping urgently in the bathroom. The playful comments he made before have changed into flat out promises of mind blowing sex. I’m stunned at the boldness of his words, yet also intrigued, a little bit terrified, and more turned on than I’ve been in many years. It is an intoxicating blend of emotions, this growing urge within me is getting louder, hungrier and becoming harder to ignore each time I see him. It’s there in plain sight for anyone to see, but no one is looking at us, no one notices the fire burning in my eyes begging to be extinguished.

Until.

My husband and kids are gone for the weekend, I’m home alone. AJ knows this and heads over. My stomach is a roller coaster, my nerves are alive and tingling with anticipation. A choice will be made tonight, one that could change my life forever. As tempted as I am, I'm still torn with the church guilt leftover from my youth, knowing the terrible sin of adultery. Plagued with fear, I don't want to do anything to disrupt the lives of my kids, not to mention myself, I enjoy driving my silver SUV and my 1800 square foot house on the corner. I enjoy the comfort of my life, while I hate the miserable, manipulative sham of my marriage. I know what the right thing to do is, but the right thing is rarely the easy thing. Still, the time has come to decide - will I do what I should, or will I cave to temptation? Would giving in to it finally satisfy this raw, demanding hunger that has been gnawing at me for months?

AJ is here now, standing in front of me. I’m drinking straight whiskey, liquid courage. Words are said, I don’t know what. I know my responses are punctuated by the rapid drum of my racing heart, my skin feels flushed with heat from the alcohol, and that eye contact with AJ feels as intimate as if he were already inside me. I know that AJ’s shirt is made of the thinnest, soft cotton, his hair smells like shampoo, his hands are calloused, rougher than I expected them to be, and his blue eyes seem to get darker as his desire increases.

We are inside the house now, in the master bedroom, on the floor. Months and months of build up have led to this moment. Our mouths are fused together, tongues dancing in and out, their own mating ritual. My hands pull his shirt over his head, I slide my palms over smooth shoulders and chest and push him backward to the ground. My lips blaze a trail from his collarbone down to that V at his hips that’s been driving me insane for so long now. There is not an ounce of fat to be found on AJ, his body is made of hard muscles and tan skin, flawless and unmarred. He could be the poster boy of youthful vitality, he is handsome and toned and beautiful. My tongue traces the lines that delineate his abs, he tastes faintly like salt and strongly like a terrible mistake. So fucking delicious.

My mouth is shameless as it makes its way down to his hips, I get his belt off in seconds and pull his pants part way down. I catch his hip bone between my teeth, he squirms letting me know it tickles. I smile at his discomfort and relish the power of my awakening sexuality. His hands are in my hair and I rub my face across his belly, nuzzling, allowing my lips to brush the smooth expanse, so different from the body I’m used to, and so damn sexy. I could do this for days, it would take hours studying his ribs and abs and hips, mapping them with my fingers and mouth to get my fill.

Suddenly the hands in my hair are grabbing firm, he pulls me up gently, bringing my face to his. Our mouths meet again, this time he’s taking the lead, I sink into the floor as his hands rip off my shirt, then his lips and teeth are on my breasts and my mouth exhales sharply at the unexpected thrill of this new sensation of my nipples in his mouth. Teeth nibbling gently map a similar path down my belly and stop at my waist, his hands pull my jeans and panties off expertly in one swoop. And then, before I can blink, his hands are under my ass, cupping the cheeks, lifting and guiding me close, his face is between my thighs, his warm breath teases, and then we are engaged in the most intimate kiss of all.

I’m gasping for air and helpless to the sensations as his mouth continues to work me, skillfully using his tongue and lips and teeth. I’m more than a little surprised that a boy of his age is handling my body with this confident expertise, not the clumsy, fumbling manner I’d been expecting. My whole body grows tense, and my thighs are vibrating, and he knows what that means, my back arches and his tongue works frantically pushing me over the edge of an orgasm that leaves my knees quivering. Blue eyes meet mine, he slides up my body and our lips meet again in a kiss that promises even more. I can taste myself on his lips and I’m so turned on, and so wet, and any last remnant of doubt is tossed away like his clothes as I rip them off wildly and let them fall where they may.

Back down his belly I slide, this time skin on skin, my nipples hardening from the friction as they slide down his chest. I bite his hip again and thrill at his slight jump. I trace my fingers along that V, that V which has been haunting my dreams and fueling my fantasies for months. Finally, I’m able to taste it, finally I follow that V to its conclusion and I’m pleasantly surprised at his size, larger than I expected, already hard before I’ve even touched him. I tease with my tongue and lips, kissing and nibbling all around his hips and belly, letting the lust take over, taking in his scent and savoring this moment. I smile at the sharp intake of his breath when I grip his shaft with my hand, testing its solidity and weight. Our eyes meet as I lower my head, I open my mouth and take him in. His eyes close and he exhales deeply as my mouth moves up and down his considerable length, and I’m drunk with the power of his desire and my own lack of inhibitions. Working him with my mouth, getting wetter by the second. He tastes faintly of salt and strongly like the end of my marriage.

After a few moments he grabs me by the hair again and pulls me to him. He positions me on my back and slides his hand between my thighs, testing my readiness. Blue eyes darken and he smiles, realizing how wet I am. “Are you ready for me?” He asks cheekily. Sassy mouth.

“Yes!” I tell him and still he teases. He’s rubbing himself all over me, using his hand to guide the head against my lips, teasing my opening, spreading my moisture over us both. “Please,” I say, uncaring at this point, desperate to be filled. My body is beyond hungry, it's starving and has been starved for far too long. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck and with lips pressed against his ear I whisper “AJ, please. Fuck me.” And that does it, and with one thrust he’s inside - and he’s so fucking deep, and I cry out with pleasure as I feel myself stretching open to receive him. My legs lock around his waist, my arms are still locked around his neck and it feels so fucking fantastic, so unbelievably, mind numbingly, toes-curling, eyes-rolling-to-the-back-of-the-head, astonishingly, shockingly amazing. Finally, that hunger is being fed, the sexual appetite that had been ignored and denied for years is feeding at last, and it’s ravenous.

Our bodies rock back and forth, my hips rising to meet his every thrust. Our tongues are swirling madly, as breathing becomes more labored, as hearts pound wildly to keep up. The tension is building inside me again, and I am completely at his mercy. He is pumping into me with a knowledgeable proficiency a 23 year old shouldn’t have. He is driving into me with the enthusiasm and energy possessed only by the young and unjaded. My fingers dig into his skin as he takes me over the edge again, and I’m unable to stop myself from crying out and we are coming together. I can feel him empty into me and my legs lock him in place while I squeeze every last drop out of him.

He collapses on my belly, breathing hard. I am stroking his hair, a little shocked at my licentious behavior, more shocked at how satisfied my body feels. Now that I’ve given into temptation, a niggling of guilt pokes at me. I push it down, allowing the thunder of multiple orgasms to drown that unpleasant thought out.

AJ looks up at me then, his blue eyes are sweet and earnest, and I smile. “You’re amazing ” I say and he smiles back. He moves up and pulls me close, we are snuggling and I feel happy, ignoring the fact this is the bed I share with my husband. My lips reach out to his again, one last kiss before falling asleep. He tastes faintly of salt and strongly like the beauty of new beginnings.