monica
- 2 years ago
- 38
- 0
Monica free porn video
Monica and I met in our freshman year in college. We had both enrolled in the same history class and she occupied the seat beside me. We'd frequently make small talk while waiting for class to start, and It wasn't long before we became friends. Very good friends actually. We looked out for one another, studied together, watched movies, had dinner and went drinking together. We had sex, hot torrid sex. The kind of sex that... No, that's not true at all. We never had sex. We never even kissed, unless you consider a kiss on the cheek kissing. Of course I had often thought about sex with her. Too frequently in fact.
I had sat by and watched while Monica dated but never had the nerve to step up myself and approach her in that way. I dated too, but never had a lasting relationship. That's probably because my mind was elsewhere. Elsewhere just happened to be Monica.
The college years went by and we kept up our routine, study partners and best of friends through the remainder of the fours years of school. We hurtled toward graduation focused and intent on reaching our goal, emerging on the other side to find ourselves embarking on our careers. Jobs that thrust us into unfamiliar territory amidst unfamiliar faces and environs. Those same jobs would soon separate us, sending us toward opposite sides of the country as we pursued our careers. Yet my mind remained elsewhere and the years passed by.
A few years later, a card arrived in the mail. It was from Monica, I'd recognized her handwriting, having memorized her cursive style. Any other day I'd have been delighted to have received this card with my heart skipping a beat and rising into my throat while opening the envelope. But this wasn't just any card. It wasn't a Valentine's Day card, or birthday card. It was a wedding invitation, and that invitation took remaining fragile piece of my heart that burned the small flame of hope and with the faintest breeze, extinguished the flame.
Resigned to the fact that my secret love was getting married, I arrived at the wedding a few months later, happy for my friend, and offering well wishes and congratulatory sentiments. Over the next few days before the wedding, we caught up on what we'd been doing recently. We drank, danced and laughed. I met her husband Mike, a gracious gentleman whom I found to be a terrific guy, and perfect for Monica. They adored each other and I could see that she had found true happiness in him. After the wedding I returned to my hotel, smiled to myself and put Monica behind me. Still my dear friend, but no longer the girl who might be mine.
And the years went on. I met Elizabeth, a remarkable woman and the mother of my two wonderful children. We have a comfortable life in a modest home, just north of Hartford. We exchanged Christmas cards, Birthday cards and the occasional email with Monica and Mike, taking those opportunities to update one another about what has changed since the last card was sent in the post, or simply to say hello.
Then in late April I learned that I needed to travel to San Francisco on business to meet with a client. I was scheduled to arrive on Thursday, meet with the client on Friday morning and then travel home. There were no available flights Friday evening and I was required to book a flight departing the following afternoon.
While discussing the travel arrangements with Liz, she said "You should call Monica and Mike!" When I looked up in surprise she said, "If they find out you were in the neighborhood and didn't call on them to let them know, they'd be very hurt."
She was right of course. I simply wanted to get the trip over with, but what else am I going to do Friday night? Watch porn on the hotel TV and jerk off?
So I called Monica and she immediately insisted that I come for dinner Friday evening. The kids would be at her sisters and it would just be the three of us.
"We can drink, and catch up just like the old days!" she laughed on the other end of the phone. The tone of her voice giving away her smile.
Two weeks later I was standing outside their front door, with a bottle of wine in my hand and uncertainty in mind. Should I really be here after all these years? How long had it been anyway? Twelve years at least, no thirteen... whatever. stop stalling and ring the bell. She pulled open the door wearing a smile that lit up the night around me, appearing just as I had remembered, sending me back in time for a moment. She gave me a quick hug and ushered me into their cozy home. Mike came walking out from the kitchen extending his hand with a smile, welcoming me and offering cocktails. A drink? How could I refuse? We gathered around the kitchen island and enjoyed our drinks and light appetizers.
"I didn't want to prepare a big meal, and have to deal with the preparation and cleanup," she explained "This gives us more time to chat."
Monica was gracious and lovely as ever. Funny, engaging, charismatic and yes, sexy. Mike made sure our drinks were always fresh and they flowed freely. We talked about business, the latest movies, and recalled embarrassing moments from our college days. My side hurt from laughter and I had a terrific drunk welling up.
I looked at my watch and saw it was 10:30. "Hey, I'm sorry, I've completely lost track of time. I really should be on my way." I stood and walked to the sink, placing my glass on the counter nearby.
"Your flight doesn't leave until 3:00 tomorrow afternoon," Monica protested. "And you're certainly not in any condition to drive back to the city."
Mike agreed and added, "Why don't you stay here tonight?"
"You should! We've got plenty of room and the kids are at my sisters." said Monica with a smile.
I shook my head no, uncomfortable with the idea, "I couldn't possibly impose..."
"It's no imposition," she interrupted and started to usher me toward the study off of the kitchen. Half drunk I caved in easily and followed her. Of course she could just as easily have talked me into walking the plank.
The sofa in the study had a pull out bed, and she had already prepared it.
"Through that door is the bathroom." she said pointing. "If you need anything at all, please help yourself." She kissed me on cheek, said, "Sweet dreams!" and just like that the door closed behind her.
I slowly got undressed to my boxers, feeling a bit uneasy in their home and slipped under the covers. The numbing effects of the alcohol and thoughts of Monica luring me to sleep.
No sooner had I fallen asleep, a noise from the kitchen startled me. Suddenly awake, I raised my head from the pillow, listening. I heard the sound of glassware clinking together coming from the kitchen. I lay still a bit longer and heard it again along with soft humming. Is that singing I wondered? I slipped from the sofa bed and cracked open the door ever so slightly, the light from the kitchen spilling through and blinding me for a moment. My eyes adjusted in time to see Monica pouring herself a glass of water. She was humming an old Fleetwood Mac song that we used to sing to. Barefoot and in black hip hugger panties and a white tank top. She turned and leaned back against the kitchen counter, taking a sip of water. The shape of her nipples visible, pressing against the thin material of her tank top. I felt myself starting to harden as I watched her. As she took another sip, the water dribbled from her lips dripping onto her top and moistening the fabric covering her nipple. It became immediately visible and hardened. With her free hand she reached up and rubbed her palm against it, her eyes watching as it stiffened in response to her touch.
She turned slightly, placed the glass on the counter behind her and reached under her tank top and slowly massaged her breast while her other hand slid slowly over her panties. I swallowed, my mouth was dry and I was in total disbelief as I watched the woman I had fantasized about for so long touch herself. What was she thinking of at the moment that had her so turned on? Her fingers disappearing between her legs as she stood there and rubbed herself through her panties. As I watched, my hand had snaked its way inside my boxers and I was giving my cock long slow strokes. I thought for a moment, I should grab my phone and take a few pictures... no, bad idea. I continued watching, and stroking.
She pulled her panties aside and her fingers had found their way between her glistening lips. Her other hand raising the tank top and exposing her breasts as she tugged at and teased her nipples. Her hips moving in rhythm to her fingers. A moment later her lips parted and a low moan escaped from between them.
My hand was tugging at my cock faster now and I felt I was close to cumming. I closed my eyes for the briefest moment and I had let out a low groan. When I opened my eyes I saw Monica standing just outside the door, watching me. Startled... no not startled, it scared the Hell out of me! I practically jumped out of my skin!
Waking from the dream, I bolted upright, my heart was pounding and my cock was in Monica's hand. She was sitting on the edge of the bed slowly stroking me.
"Shhhh it's okay," she said soothingly, "it's just me." She smiled warmly looking down at my cock and then back into my eyes. "I couldn't resist any longer, I hope you don't mind..."
I had sat by and watched while Monica dated but never had the nerve to step up myself and approach her in that way. I dated too, but never had a lasting relationship. That's probably because my mind was elsewhere. Elsewhere just happened to be Monica.
The college years went by and we kept up our routine, study partners and best of friends through the remainder of the fours years of school. We hurtled toward graduation focused and intent on reaching our goal, emerging on the other side to find ourselves embarking on our careers. Jobs that thrust us into unfamiliar territory amidst unfamiliar faces and environs. Those same jobs would soon separate us, sending us toward opposite sides of the country as we pursued our careers. Yet my mind remained elsewhere and the years passed by.
A few years later, a card arrived in the mail. It was from Monica, I'd recognized her handwriting, having memorized her cursive style. Any other day I'd have been delighted to have received this card with my heart skipping a beat and rising into my throat while opening the envelope. But this wasn't just any card. It wasn't a Valentine's Day card, or birthday card. It was a wedding invitation, and that invitation took remaining fragile piece of my heart that burned the small flame of hope and with the faintest breeze, extinguished the flame.
Resigned to the fact that my secret love was getting married, I arrived at the wedding a few months later, happy for my friend, and offering well wishes and congratulatory sentiments. Over the next few days before the wedding, we caught up on what we'd been doing recently. We drank, danced and laughed. I met her husband Mike, a gracious gentleman whom I found to be a terrific guy, and perfect for Monica. They adored each other and I could see that she had found true happiness in him. After the wedding I returned to my hotel, smiled to myself and put Monica behind me. Still my dear friend, but no longer the girl who might be mine.
And the years went on. I met Elizabeth, a remarkable woman and the mother of my two wonderful children. We have a comfortable life in a modest home, just north of Hartford. We exchanged Christmas cards, Birthday cards and the occasional email with Monica and Mike, taking those opportunities to update one another about what has changed since the last card was sent in the post, or simply to say hello.
Then in late April I learned that I needed to travel to San Francisco on business to meet with a client. I was scheduled to arrive on Thursday, meet with the client on Friday morning and then travel home. There were no available flights Friday evening and I was required to book a flight departing the following afternoon.
While discussing the travel arrangements with Liz, she said "You should call Monica and Mike!" When I looked up in surprise she said, "If they find out you were in the neighborhood and didn't call on them to let them know, they'd be very hurt."
She was right of course. I simply wanted to get the trip over with, but what else am I going to do Friday night? Watch porn on the hotel TV and jerk off?
So I called Monica and she immediately insisted that I come for dinner Friday evening. The kids would be at her sisters and it would just be the three of us.
"We can drink, and catch up just like the old days!" she laughed on the other end of the phone. The tone of her voice giving away her smile.
Two weeks later I was standing outside their front door, with a bottle of wine in my hand and uncertainty in mind. Should I really be here after all these years? How long had it been anyway? Twelve years at least, no thirteen... whatever. stop stalling and ring the bell. She pulled open the door wearing a smile that lit up the night around me, appearing just as I had remembered, sending me back in time for a moment. She gave me a quick hug and ushered me into their cozy home. Mike came walking out from the kitchen extending his hand with a smile, welcoming me and offering cocktails. A drink? How could I refuse? We gathered around the kitchen island and enjoyed our drinks and light appetizers.
"I didn't want to prepare a big meal, and have to deal with the preparation and cleanup," she explained "This gives us more time to chat."
Monica was gracious and lovely as ever. Funny, engaging, charismatic and yes, sexy. Mike made sure our drinks were always fresh and they flowed freely. We talked about business, the latest movies, and recalled embarrassing moments from our college days. My side hurt from laughter and I had a terrific drunk welling up.
I looked at my watch and saw it was 10:30. "Hey, I'm sorry, I've completely lost track of time. I really should be on my way." I stood and walked to the sink, placing my glass on the counter nearby.
"Your flight doesn't leave until 3:00 tomorrow afternoon," Monica protested. "And you're certainly not in any condition to drive back to the city."
Mike agreed and added, "Why don't you stay here tonight?"
"You should! We've got plenty of room and the kids are at my sisters." said Monica with a smile.
I shook my head no, uncomfortable with the idea, "I couldn't possibly impose..."
"It's no imposition," she interrupted and started to usher me toward the study off of the kitchen. Half drunk I caved in easily and followed her. Of course she could just as easily have talked me into walking the plank.
The sofa in the study had a pull out bed, and she had already prepared it.
"Through that door is the bathroom." she said pointing. "If you need anything at all, please help yourself." She kissed me on cheek, said, "Sweet dreams!" and just like that the door closed behind her.
I slowly got undressed to my boxers, feeling a bit uneasy in their home and slipped under the covers. The numbing effects of the alcohol and thoughts of Monica luring me to sleep.
No sooner had I fallen asleep, a noise from the kitchen startled me. Suddenly awake, I raised my head from the pillow, listening. I heard the sound of glassware clinking together coming from the kitchen. I lay still a bit longer and heard it again along with soft humming. Is that singing I wondered? I slipped from the sofa bed and cracked open the door ever so slightly, the light from the kitchen spilling through and blinding me for a moment. My eyes adjusted in time to see Monica pouring herself a glass of water. She was humming an old Fleetwood Mac song that we used to sing to. Barefoot and in black hip hugger panties and a white tank top. She turned and leaned back against the kitchen counter, taking a sip of water. The shape of her nipples visible, pressing against the thin material of her tank top. I felt myself starting to harden as I watched her. As she took another sip, the water dribbled from her lips dripping onto her top and moistening the fabric covering her nipple. It became immediately visible and hardened. With her free hand she reached up and rubbed her palm against it, her eyes watching as it stiffened in response to her touch.
She turned slightly, placed the glass on the counter behind her and reached under her tank top and slowly massaged her breast while her other hand slid slowly over her panties. I swallowed, my mouth was dry and I was in total disbelief as I watched the woman I had fantasized about for so long touch herself. What was she thinking of at the moment that had her so turned on? Her fingers disappearing between her legs as she stood there and rubbed herself through her panties. As I watched, my hand had snaked its way inside my boxers and I was giving my cock long slow strokes. I thought for a moment, I should grab my phone and take a few pictures... no, bad idea. I continued watching, and stroking.
She pulled her panties aside and her fingers had found their way between her glistening lips. Her other hand raising the tank top and exposing her breasts as she tugged at and teased her nipples. Her hips moving in rhythm to her fingers. A moment later her lips parted and a low moan escaped from between them.
My hand was tugging at my cock faster now and I felt I was close to cumming. I closed my eyes for the briefest moment and I had let out a low groan. When I opened my eyes I saw Monica standing just outside the door, watching me. Startled... no not startled, it scared the Hell out of me! I practically jumped out of my skin!
Waking from the dream, I bolted upright, my heart was pounding and my cock was in Monica's hand. She was sitting on the edge of the bed slowly stroking me.
"Shhhh it's okay," she said soothingly, "it's just me." She smiled warmly looking down at my cock and then back into my eyes. "I couldn't resist any longer, I hope you don't mind..."
Safiya
- 25.06.2020
- 57
- 0
- Category:
- Love Stories
