Anniversary.

One year, a little more than a month ago.

I booked a room in the Motel 6 a block away from the apartment I shared with three others; the thrill of the bill in my e-mail made me almost as wet as the kiss he gave me when we stumbled across the threshold, awkwardly playing at being "real" adults, adopting the roles of horny strangers.

A sudden shyness overwhelmed the tiny room as we stripped the bed of its cover and flicked on the television. I pulled a bottle of sparkling white wine from my overstuffed suitcase, but no corkscrew--we giggled as he tried to pry the cork out with his car key. The endeavor failed miserably.

The two of us rolled onto the bed, fully clothed, gently re-exploring each other's bodies after three months of sexless separation. I slipped my hands under his shirt, liberating the broad chest and muscled shoulders I had missed; I ran my fingernails down his stomach, cupped his round ass and squeezed. He lay down on his stomach and I rubbed him down with one of those all natural massage bars. Ours was shaped like a heart, smelled like chocolate and cloves (but tasted like soap), and left a warm, slippery residue and gritty bits on his skin. After fifteen minutes, he returned the favor.

"Close your eyes." He did, and I made an ungainly scramble for the itty bitty bathroom. I toweled what was left of the fragrant stuff off of my skin, and squeezed into the black silk Jacquard corset with red lace accents (and matching thong) that I had bought expressly for his anniversary gift.

I sauntered slowly out (well, sauntered may not be quite the word..my stomach was full to the brim with some form of butterfly, and I was teetering about in red patent pumps), and stood before him, weight shifted to one hip, trying to look confident and ending up betraying my nerves completely, more self-conscious than I had been the first time he saw me naked.

He smiled up at me, gently pulling me closer with his hands on my hips, nuzzling the tiny V of silk that barely covered my snatch, his warm breath making me moan with pleasure and surprise.

In a moment I was on the bed, heels shed, scrap of underwear flung across the room (corset still intact). His face was buried between my thighs; I gasped and tightened them as he lapped at the lips of my pussy, dipping his tongue into me, rolling up and around my clit hungrily. My fingers tightened in his hair as I came for the first time that night, calling out (hoping the walls were thick), back arching.

Mon Homme grinned, licking his lips, and slowly moved forward for a kiss. I pulled him down on top of me, responding fiercely, my cunt throbbing. As we broke our kiss, the desire in his eyes paralleled his pulsing erection, and he bent to suck on my exposed nipples.

"I want you inside me," I whispered, and he groaned, finally thrusting into my pussy. Months of waiting escaped in a satisfied sigh, as the familiar feeling of his thick cock filled me in the most amazing way.

Then a look of panic appeared appeared on his face.

"Oh shit..I'm already close." His eyes squeezed tight shut, and he adopted an expression of deep concentration.

"Think of something else," I suggested, and he nodded quickly. "I've really missed this..Your cock feels so good inside me..I love it when you fuck me."

"Hey now," he said, "you're not helping. Let's talk about string theory." He launched into a brief lecture on quantum physics, eyes locked with mine, and slowly resumed his gentle thrusting.

The odd combination of G-spot massage and special relativity, plus my pleasure at being with him again, excited me more than ever. To my surprise, I felt the heat rise in my stomach, my muscles tightening sweetly, the beginning of an orgasm curling up. I wrapped my legs more tightly around his waist, rolled my hips upward, and came hard. He stopped moving, staring down at me in surprise.

"Did you really..?"

"Yesss," I replied breathlessly. A few more strokes and he was done. I stripped completely and we twined together, falling asleep in complete satisfaction.

In the morning, having completely abandoned my unease, I changed into my "Catholic school girl" outfit--white Oxford, very short plaited red plaid skirt, white knee high socks, and black Mary Janes--and he fucked me from behind.

Afterward, we thought about trying something new which we'd discussed for a while: anal sex. He pulled me into his lap, lubricated a gloved finger, and gently probed my asshole. It was an interesting experience for him and for me, since while I had had a finger up my ass before, it had never been done so sweetly.

Eventually we chose to postpone the actual thing..but it's only a matter of time.