How Tasha from the College Gym Ruined Condoms for Me… Part 2

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I read the text from Tasha:

“Bingo. I just moved back. Where can I find you?”

I smiled, and typed, “At dinner tomorrow, obviously.”

I met Tasha the next day at an upscale restaurant a few neighborhoods over from me.

Tasha looked… somehow better than when I first saw her. She greeted me with a smile, a big hug, and a gentle kiss on the cheek.

We spent a lovely dinner talking about our lives since we last saw each other. It had been nearly ten years, and so much had happened. She went to law school. A little about losing her mom, too. About the work she was doing now at her firm. She asked me about my work, my moves all over the country, how I was feeling well and settled back in the city where we both went to college.

We both dated people, sometimes longer than we would have liked to, and they didn’t work out.

The entire conversation, she never took her eyes off of me, and I never took my eyes off of her. At one point, I reached out to hold her hand for a moment and she grinned.

We both finished dinner, drained the bottle of wine, and I paid the bill, and there was a moment of quiet between us.

“I’m not ready for the night to end. Wanna go for a drink?” she asked, looking at me, hopeful.

I called a car.

The sleaziest thing I do in real life: directly behind my apartment building, no less than a thirty-second walk, is a fairly friendly, rather good dive bar. It’s the perfect place to bring a woman after a nice dinner for a nightcap, assess the situation, and if the feelings are right… cross the street.

At the bar, we both sipped a few drinks and discussed the state of local political races. Tasha asked detailed questions about how the local city government operated and how our officials funded the metro/subway system. I asked her about her work as an attorney and the various places she’s been to in the meantime.

Eventually, however, it was her that brought up the elephant in the room, as we both continued to sip grapefruit crushes.

“Remember when I ruined condoms for you?” she joked, giggling.

“Now that you mention it… I do, pretty vividly,” I replied as I made a protracted gesture to smooth out the tent in my pants.

“Oh?”

“It was… life changing.”

She sipped her drink, looking at me thoughtfully. “We had so much fun back then. I really adored you.”

“I still do. You made me feel at home.”

Her eyes lit up with a realization. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I sent you that text to reconnect with you.”

“I mean, ‘you have a glorious penis’ is one way to get someone’s attention.”

Sitting in my sleazy dive bar, around various louts, pool players, and other people in stages of drunkenness, we kissed.

“I should have taken you somewhere nicer,” I said.

“How about home?”

My grin felt as though it would split my face in half… and I walked her 30 seconds across the street.

“Oh my god you are such a dog!” she exclaimed, giggling as we walked up to the elevator.

I take pride in not having a dude apartment. I thoughtfully decorate, paint, organize, and want everyone to feel welcome in my home. Champagne is always on hand for guests.

“Can I get you some champagne?”

“Yes, but can I take it from bed?”

I poured a couple glasses of my good champagne and brought it into my bedroom, where she was sitting upright on the right edge of my bed. I placed both glasses on the bedside table and sat next to her.

“I’ve missed you,” I said.

We kissed gently. It was sweet, sweeter and more romantic than we had ever really kissed in college. Maybe just a touch of age had mellowed us out a bit.

And then, we kissed some more.

I kissed her behind her ear, because I remembered that she enjoyed that, and was rewarded with a moan.

I kissed her neck.

I kissed her collarbone.

I undid a button and kissed there.

I undid two more buttons and kissed there.

I undid the last button and her shirt fell open, revealing a very delicate, white lace bra, holding a pair of beautiful breasts, perhaps just slightly more full than I remembered, but otherwise the same.

“You are so beautiful,” I said, smiling.

“You always used to tell me that, and I loved it every time you did.”

She undid the buttons of my shirt. “There, now we’re even.” And we brought ourselves close together for a moment in an embrace, our skin touching each other, reconnecting in a way that felt just as intimate as sex.

But don’t worry, there was still sex, when Tasha backed up from the embrace and looked at me.

“I think this is the part where we both get naked now.”

I laughed, and we stood up and stripped. Folks, she’s kept it so tight. The extremely tall, beautiful, athletic body I knew so well from my college years, as beautiful as it has ever been… perky, beautiful B-cups topped with rosy quarter-sized nipples, and although she hadn’t picked up a volleyball in a few years, it was clear nobody told her ass. She grinned, knowing she was hot as well, and looked at me.

“There it is!” she teased, grabbing my cock and kissing me a bit again as we both grabbed and felt each other up, my penis quickly expanding.

“If I remember correctly…” she whispered, “this always got you so hard…” She slapped my balls lightly, and my eyes widened. My “quickly expanding” boner went automatically to “full power.”

I responded back by running my hand down the length of her long body and gently rubbing her clit, and felt her turn into my neck and sigh.

“Can I go down on you?”

“Tomorrow… I’m already really wet. I’d like to have sex.”

I kissed her again, and laid her on her back.

As I propped up her long legs on my shoulders, I said, “I like how you assumed you would be staying the night. You are so welcome to, of course.”

I lined up my penis at her beautiful, waxed pussy.

“This ok?” I asked.

“Yes but hey… please be gentle. You’re still my biggest… so you know…”

She saw me grin in spite of myself. So corny!

“I know you wanted to hear that. Every man wants to hear that, but hey! It’s true. Nice job champ. I’ve been wanting this for ages.”

I rolled my eyes and eased my cock head into her.

“Fucckkkkk… holy shit.”

I slowly slid half my length in after a series of slow, deliberate pushes to ease myself into her. I saw her gentle exterior crumble as I heard her beg for more.

“Please! Please?” as she moaned, biting her lip, and I would give her another quarter inch.

Finally, I was all the way in, her legs up on my shoulders, shaking now. She raised her arms erratically, not really in control, and knocked over both glasses of champagne. Fortunately, the glasses didn’t break as they fell onto my thick houndstooth rug, but her eyes shot open.

“Shhh, don’t worry about it,” I said as I moved her legs off my shoulders and leaned forward to kiss her, our bodies pressed up against each other.

“Just focus on feeling good,” I said as I began to gently thrust.

The moaning began immediately, as I remembered that she was a fast and frequent cummer, especially when our bodies were pressed up against each other and her clit was frequently brushed.

“Marc… I…” I immediately felt the first contraction, then a second, as she came and her perfect pussy got even wetter.

“Let me take care of you, beautiful,” I whispered as I felt nails digging into me.

We made love gently for a while longer, eventually ending up in a lazy sideways position.

I felt my need draw closer as my thrusts grew erratic.

“Tasha… you still have that IUD, right?”

“Yesssss. Let that fat cock give me its cum.”

That’s really all it took. I pushed my cock as deep as it would go and came, flooding her vagina with what felt like everything in my balls. I pulsed into her as she laid there, still and smiling back at me.

After I finally finished, we both took turns using the bathroom and I replaced the champagne.

Both of us, in bliss, slept nude, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

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The state of play is this: we frequent each other’s beds. She generally comes over to my apartment on Fridays and often doesn’t leave until Sundays. Sometimes, she doesn’t leave until Tuesday.

While we are not exclusive, I’ve been noticing an absence of others in my bed lately, and I expect that conversation is coming (and I very well may initiate it!).

Until we figure that out, however, the Tasha ruining condoms activity continues.