The Rekindling (M/F)

[OldTUGger]

The Rekindling
by OldTUGger

(Note: Life got in the way, and this story didn't get finished until after the November contest deadline. I post it here for your enjoyment.)



Headed in opposite directions, we rounded the corner of a Walmart aisle and quite literally bumped into each other.

“Oh, sorry,” I said, hardly even glancing in her direction.

“Jay?”

Startled, I turned to see the woman I’d bumped. “Diana?”

She rushed forward and hugged me warmly. I returned her embrace.

“Long time no see, stranger,” she said as she stepped back and looked up into my face.

I did some quick mental math, nodded and smiled. “Yeah. Forty-one years.”

We were college sweethearts, Diana and I, until circumstances beyond our control forced our lives in separate directions. Even after I married someone else and raised a family, I thought of her at times and wondered how life might have been different had we stayed together.

“The years have been kind to you,” I said.

I wasn’t trying to flatter her. At sixty-two, her face was as smooth and lovely as it had been when we first met. She still had the same willowy figure. Her hair had changed, from blonde to snow-white, but she still wore it in the same pixie cut.

“I read your wife’s obituary last spring,” she said solemnly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you. How is your husband?”

Her solemn look deepened. “I lost Mark about five years ago. Cancer.”

“Oh, gosh. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, D.”

Silence hung heavy between us for a moment before I spoke. “Would you -- um -- like to get a cup of coffee? Maybe we could catch up a bit.”

She smiled. “I’d like that.”

We spent an entire afternoon at the coffee shop -- sharing what had happened to us in the last four-plus decades and thoroughly enjoying one another’s company. The hours flew by until my cell phone dinged with a business-related text message.

“Oh, no,” I said. “Duty calls, but I don’t want this to end. How would you feel about a dinner date?”

“I’ve got a better idea,” she replied. “Why don’t you come to my place tomorrow evening? We’ll order a pizza and continue catching up.”

“Deal.”

I spent the following day in a state of nervous anticipation, wondering what the evening might bring and wondering where this renewed friendship might take us.

Diana answered the doorbell half a heartbeat after I rang it. Had she been waiting beside the door?

She beamed as I stepped inside. “Ridiculously punctual, as usual,” she said with a chuckle. “You’ve never been one to keep a girl waiting.”

“I’m especially punctual for the prettiest ones,” I replied. Her bright blue eyes twinkled a response.

She invited me into her living room, where we sat and chatted until the pizza arrived. We ate a little of it, but focused mainly on one another.

“This is nice,” she said, reaching out a hand to rest on one of mine. “But I think I have a way to make it even nicer. Reach into that top end-table drawer and tell me what you find.”

I slid the drawer open and looked inside. My jaw dropped. My head spun. Therein lay four hanks of soft nylon rope, neatly arranged side-by-side.

“Umm…I thought you weren’t into this,” I said, puzzled. During our long-ago courtship, I had playfully tied her hands one time. She tolerated it cheerfully enough, but it clearly was a one-off, in-the-moment experience. I tried several times to reprise the event, but she rebuffed me every time.

“Times change, people change,” she said, smiling. “Years into our marriage, Mark introduced me to tie-up games, and later to more serious bondage. I was reluctant at first, but once I gave in, I found that I really enjoyed feeling all tied up and helpless. Are you still interested in tying women up?”

“Maybe even more than you imagine,” I replied, thunderstruck by her revelation.

“Well, Jay, here’s your opportunity,” she said, turning her back to me and crossing her wrists at the small of her back. “Make me helpless.”

“How helpless do you want to be?” I asked as I placed her wrists parallel to each other and bound them in a snug two-column tie.

“Helpless-helpless. Do your worst. If you’ll look in the next drawer down, you’ll find what you need to do me up right.”

I slid the drawer open. “Holy cow, you really did get into it, didn’t you?” I asked, holding up a leather blindfold and a well-worn ball gag.

“You have no idea. Those things are only the tip of my kink iceberg.”

“Well, let’s see how flexible you are,” I said, drawing her elbows gently toward one another. They went together easily, and I kept them that way by binding and cinching her upper arms.

With her arms drawn back, her small breasts became much more prominent. I paused for a moment to admire the view, then rigged a chest harness that accentuated them further still.

“I should have known you’d be good at this,” she said, smiling broadly.

Her compliment suffused me with a warm glow as I bound her thighs and ankles. “Remember, you did say helpless-helpless,” I said. “To me, that spells h-o-g-t-i-e.”

“Go for it,” she said as she toppled to one side on the sofa and twisted her body to lie face-down. Happy to oblige, I looped a short length of rope around the cinches of her ankle-ropes, threaded it under the back piece of her chest harness, and pulled her into a gentle reverse arch.

“Mmmmmm…nice,” she purred, immersing herself into her captivity.

“How long do you want to stay like that?” I asked as I slipped the blindfold over her eyes.

“Ten or fifteen minutes should get me nice and revved up,” she replied. “I’ll snap my fingers when I want out.”

And with that, she opened her mouth wide and waited to be ball-gagged.

I won’t delve further into what took place during the rest of that evening. Suffice to say we spent several hours ‘revving her up’ even more, and then brought our shared experience to the spectacular mutual climax it deserved.

Not surprisingly, we’re together again now. Our kids and grandkids say we make a cute couple. They think of us as two old flames who rediscovered one another, and you know what? They’re right. We are.

We’ve decided to sell our houses and move in together. Our kids call it “downsizing.” We call it “right-sizing.” Our new place will have everything a kinky old couple could ask for -- a smaller footprint, fewer rooms to sweep and dust, a white picket fence…and a cute little dungeon in the basement.

We can hardly wait.

[Dpsiic]

Cute story, my age group too

[Bandit666]

Great story. Shame it never made it into the story contest, and yet I’m pleased it didn’t in a way. As now it’s possible to leave a comment and thank you for sharing

[TinkerBliss]

Adorable story! Thanks for sharing it!

[slackywacky]

Good to see one of your stories on the board. Good thing [mention]TinkerBliss[/mention] bumped it by commenting, as I had missed it completely. Just too busy with life I guess.

> You have no idea. Those things are only the tip of my kink iceberg.

Options for a sequel?