May 30

The Basement Apartment

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We had shed our clothes and stood naked facing each other in the living room of my studio apartment. We were 20 then and it was the best my body ever would look. Denise’s body hadn’t changed since the first time we had gone to bed, and it wouldn’t change much over the next 17 years of courtship, engagement, marriage, parenthood and, finally, estrangement and divorce. I write this now more than 40 years later trying to remember every detail of that body, her straight, near-black shoulder-length hair, piercing brown eyes, the full lips of a sultry Italian beauty, her full, pale-skinned breasts tipped with big, light-brown areolae, a hint of a tummy, full – again – hips and what she herself proudly called model’s legs. She was dead right. And to complete this picture of vibrant, sensual womanhood was a lush delta of black, curly hair where those legs met, concealing the tender fleshy trap she had laid for me when we were in high school and I was a hormone-crazed boy who she could walk on an emotional leash because she allowed me to touch her sensuous body, thrilling me in a way I’d never experienced before and haven’t often felt since. My Roman goddess.

I reached for her shoulders and ran my hands over them toward her smooth neck. I held it gently while I drew my face toward hers and she closed her eyes – shame on me, I’d almost forgotten about those long black eyelashes – and let her mouth open ever so little while I leaned in, my eyes also closed, and pressed my mouth against hers. We started breathing more heavily and I took my hands away from her neck and ran them down her gooseflesh-rough arms, stopping to grasp her long fingers before sliding them güvenilir bahis down to her hips and holding them tightly while my penis began to push against her pubic mound with its garland of hair scratching gently against my now-hardening cock.

I’m 5’11” and she is 5’10”, at 20 she weighed 155 pounds, bringing her just shy of Amazonian dimensions, and I had to bend my knees slightly so I could reach around her and run my hands up and down her perfect white ass. Her skin could have been velvet and her buttocks felt like the most pliable, soft pillows you could ever hope to sleep on. I gripped each butt cheek as my solid dick seemingly willed itself to slide from uncomfortably being pressed down and strain its way up until it wedged itself flat between my lower abdomen and hers. This exposed the underside of my shaft and the delicious friction coaxed the first droplets of cum out of the tip.

I pushed my hips against hers, our lips still pressed together, and drew her even closer with my hands on that butt just with enough flab to make her a real woman, my real woman, not the false goddesses in Playboy, Penthouse and the fashion magazines with their Barbie doll bodies and snap-on, snap-off Barbie heads. Then I whispered to her, “Sit,” and she backed up a step until her calves touched against my sofa and she sank down onto the cushion, giving her hair a quick toss that made her breasts swing from side to side.

The lights were off. A fragment of light from a streetlight glowed faintly through the window of my basement apartment, the glow muted when I drew the curtains closed. Denise had taken up her cunnilingus position, leaning back on the middle türkçe bahis section of the sofa, left leg extended and resting on the right section, left foot on the floor, legs apart. I knelt between her soft thighs and took in her aroma, a musky odor with a suggestion of the whiskey I had just started drinking. Placing my hands on top of those thighs, I leaned in, extended my tongue and flicked it against her hairy mound, pushing it further until it found her vulva already moist with anticipation. I kept my hands on her thighs and let my tongue do the exploring, pushing against her labia majora and thrusting farther until it found her even wetter labia minora and, then, the magic place – her clitoris, a little fleshy button catching the hint of light still coming through the window. Up, down, left to right, right to left, circling it, pressing hard on it as Denise tensed her legs and whisper, “Ohhhhhh … God … Jim …God, don’t stop … uhhhhhh … my God … mmmmmmmhhhh. You’re eating me … ohhh.”

I drew my head back to take a breath. One of her pubic hairs had gotten stuck between my front lower teeth but I left it there, expecting more the longer I ate her. As I leaned in again I took my hands from the tops of her thighs and rested them against her inner thighs, using two fingers on each hand to gently draw apart her brownish-pink pussy lips and thrust my tongue into her pink, meaty slit. In, out, in, out. I knew that in a moment she would pull herself up onto the sofa and lie still while I mounted her and my throbbing dick would take over. And I knew had to keep that moment from coming too soon because once inside her, my 20-year-old self would have güvenilir bahis siteleri transformed itself into the 17-year-old who spurted cum inside her after no more than 10 seconds.

My tongue had found its way back to her slick red clitoris when I heard the scratching sound of rustling leaves. And I heard a voice, then another voice. I looked up at the window and saw the silhouettes of two people, guys my age, I suppose, who had been able to watch our lovemaking through the gap where the cheap curtains hung, and with just enough light so see the guy and the babe.

“Shit,” I mumbled as I jumped up, paced across the room and pulled the curtains tight as I watched the silhouettes quickly walk away down the alleyway between my apartment building and the next. I turned back to Denise and my heart began to sink: Not only were we interrupted, we were being watched.

She was still lying on the sofa when she said, “I hope they liked that.” I shrugged and said, “I’m sure they did.”

“Sit next to me,” she said. I sat and she put an arm around me. “Wasn’t that kind of exciting?”

“Being watched? Not at that moment,” I replied. “But, yeah, if it had been us watching would you have wanted to keep watching?”

“Maybe. But I don’t think they would have shown us anything we don’t already do.”

“Maybe. Let’s go get something to eat. In the morning we can take the bus to Kmart and get a better pair of curtains. Then when we put them up we can go back to our wild monkey sex.”

“Okay. That was exciting but I don’t want to start drawing crowds.”

“Me either. I don’t share my Roman goddess with anyone.”

This memory persists and the pain and misery of our ultimate failure as a couple has dulled to the point of being forgotten. Those eyes, that hair, those nipples, that skin. Memories of passion, a flame that burned white-hot within a couple of foolish kids.

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