Roxanne Revisited

© Phil's Files 2002. This story may not be reproduced in part or whole without permission from the author.
 

My company was organizing an international symposium in Strasburg on cancer treatment: on one occasion I had to take a pile of speakers' manuscripts up to the translators' booth so they would be forewarned on what to expect. I have the highest regard for simultaneous translators: it seems to me you need at least two brains working independently to listen to a speech and give a translation of it at the same time.

I threaded my way up into the highest levels of the conference centre until I found the translators' booth perched right at the back of the auditorium. There were two ladies in there with their backs to me, chatting to each other while they watched the delegates assemble. I opened the door and one of the women turned and smiled at me. I gave her the manuscripts; she was duly grateful. I became aware that the other woman was studying me intently. She was Indian, middle-aged, with a plumpish, cheerful face, a ponytail of long black hair showing streaks of grey, and dressed in a red and yellow sari. Something in her large eyes made me stop. We looked at each other for a long time - I was sure there was something familiar about her.

Finally she whispered 'Phil?'

Her voice made the connection. 'Roxanne!' I gasped, the memories flooding back. She put her hands up to her mouth and I saw a blush spread across her brown face. I wanted to go up to her and hug her, but something prevented me.

'You two know each other?' the other translator asked wryly.

'Oh, yes, I mean... we used to... many years ago...' Roxanne stuttered, obviously flustered.

'About twenty-five years ago, wasn't it?' I said, hoarsely. My mind was still filling with the images of Roxanne as a young woman and of the things we had done together. She got up and clasped my hands in hers, still blushing furiously.

'I've got to work in a few minutes,' she said. 'Oh, I never expected to see you again! What a surprise!'

'Look, we must get together and catch up on our lives. Are you doing anything this evening? We could have dinner together...'

'Oh, I don't know,' she said, still squeezing my hands. 'I'm supposed to be going to the speakers' dinner.'

'So am I,' I said, 'but I wouldn't mind getting out of it. You know how boring these things are. I'd much rather have dinner with you.'

'Oh no, you must go. You've got much more important things to do than talk to an old woman like me.'

I shook my head. 'Don't be silly. There's nothing I'd rather do. Which hotel are you in? I'll call you.'

She told me, and then, still flustered, excused herself and said she had to start work. I could see that the moderators were coming onto the platform and things were about to get going. She gave me a girlish smile that warmed my heart.

All through the day I couldn't concentrate. Roxanne, after all these years! She didn't look a bit like I would have expected. Gone was the slender leggy young woman, flirting and coquettish, that I remembered so well. Now she was matronly, greying, sensible. Well, she must be at least 50. It reminded me that I was even older. Neither of us were in the first flush of youth.

Images of our friendship passed through my mind: our lunch dates during which she would tell me intimate details of her sex life with her new husband; her pregnancy and the growing taut bulge of her stomach under her thin clothes; that glorious afternoon when I had tried (and succeeded) to induce her baby by pumping my spunk into her wonderful tight hot pussy and licking her to a chain of powerful orgasms; the sight of her naked brown body speared on my pulsing cock. I grew erect.

After the birth of her son we had kept in touch for a while, despite her husband's disapproval, but I had never again been able to enjoy her sexual gifts. In time they moved away and we gradually lost touch with each other. Even the Christmas cards petered out. Such is life.

But did I still fancy her? Or was I just fancying my memory of her? One thing was certain: the days when I could cum four times in an afternoon were long gone, no matter what the stimulus. I shrugged. Sex wasn't such a big deal these days. Friendship, good company, interesting talk, even fine food and wine, ranked equal or above. And I was sure that Roxanne would still be good company.

When I got back to my hotel I rang her, getting no reply at first. Eventually I heard her newly familiar accent.

'Hi Roxanne, what time do you want to eat?'

'Oh, I don't know, I'm not sure I feel like going out. You must have far more important people to meet.' I frowned. This lady was not the outgoing live-wire I had known.

'Believe me, Roxanne, I can't think of anything I'd rather do than talk to you all evening.' Unless, I thought, it's get inside your pussy again - or is it? 'So I won't take no for an answer. I'll be in the lobby at 7 o'clock. I'll be very upset if you're not there.'

I heard her sigh. 'You're very kind to me. All right. I'll be there.'

After a shower I examined myself in the mirror. Hmm, not bad for my age. Not a lot of hair on top, and the rest greying. Nice 'kindly' lines around the eyes. All my own teeth. A little bit of a stomach, caused by too many business lunches and not enough exercise. Private parts still in working order, but concentrating on quality not quantity these days. No varicose veins - yet. I wasn't quite at the stage where I was ashamed to strip off in front of a woman.

For a while, waiting in the lobby, I thought that Roxanne had changed her mind. Then I saw her floating across the carpet towards me, in a lime green sari. Her arms and midriff were bare, her flesh a little plump but smooth. She had put her hair up in a clasp and it showed the grace of her neck. Bangles glittered on her wrists. I was aware of a few heads turning, and it gave me a glow of pride.

I clasped her hands and kissed her on the cheek before she could object, smelling her perfume. Her skin was warm and soft.

'You look ravishing, Roxanne. Just like you always did.' She blushed again.

'I hope you don't mind the sari. I'm more comfortable in them.'

'It's beautiful. You're the best-dressed woman here tonight.'

'Well. I stopped wearing western clothes a while ago. I suppose I'm rediscovering my roots or something.'

We walked the few hundred yards to a restaurant I had identified earlier. It was quiet and cosy, just the place for a long chat or a hot seduction. Roxanne asked me what I had been doing with myself, and I embarked on a potted life history, leaving out most of the female characters. By the time we had finished our starters I was more or less up to date.

'And what about you? I wish we hadn't lost touch. Tell me everything.'

She blushed again - was she remembering our wild session of sex the day before her baby was born? Did she remember it - how could she forget it? But I didn't dare remind her.

She had had a daughter two years later, and both children were now grown up, married, and producing. 'Imagine, me a grandmother. No wonder I feel old.'

'What about Rajiv?'

She sighed. 'We split up about 15 years ago. It was difficult...'

'Can I ask why?'

'He was ... obsessively jealous. He thought I was having affairs. Every time I even looked at a man he would fly off the handle.'

'Were you? I mean, having affairs.'

'No...' she sighed again, perhaps with regret. 'I was a good and faithful wife.'

'It's a shame. You seemed so happy together. You used to tell me what a wonderful sex life you two had - remember?'

She blushed again as she looked at me. 'Yes... we did for a while. But I suppose the kettle goes off the boil eventually...' She bit her lip. I decided to change the subject and asked her how she had got into the translating business.

'I'd always been good at languages. When Rajiv and I split up it was hard - I took courses and managed to build up some work translating. Then I got a job at WHO in Geneva, which was very lucky. Now I'm freelance, but I still live in Geneva. It's a good place to be.'

'So you travel the world and meet lots of interesting people? What about boyfriends? You must have plenty.'

She looked at me with a sort of despairing expression. 'I wouldn't say that really. It's quite an exhausting job sometimes. And I'm not the sort of person that gets chatted up much.'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, look at me. I'm old and grey, too fat, too foreign, what do they see in me?'

'I'm not exactly a spring chicken myself. I'll tell you what I see in you. I see -' I took a deep breath ' - I see an attractive sexy woman who needs to be loved and cherished, but who works too hard and tries to pretend she doesn't have the same needs that women everywhere have. Don't shake your head. I know.'

She laughed. 'Maybe you're right. But it's easier this way.'

I took her hand in mine. 'Tell me, Roxanne, when did you last have really good sex?'

She looked down at the table. 'Oh Phil, that's not fair.'

'Think.'

'I don't know. A long time ago. So long ago I can't remember...'

'You know Roxanne, ever since I met you today I've not been able to stop thinking about us that time, do you remember, when you were waiting for the baby? It was some of the best sex I've ever had.'

'No... I don't believe you. You must have had lots of women better than me.'

'You were special, Roxanne.'

'Anyway I'm old now, not a sexy young girl any more.'

'There's still a sexy girl inside you, waiting to be released. I can tell.'

She looked up at me, her eyes filling with tears. 'I don't know what to say.'

'Don't say anything, Roxanne. Just come back to my room with me and let me make love to you like we did once.'

'No... it wouldn't work. You're just being kind to me.'

'We'll regret it for the rest of our lives if we don't. Look, we're both adults, both free, we don't have to account to anyone for what we do. If we don't feel like making love we can just cuddle each other all night. When was the last time you went to sleep in someone's arms?'

She looked up at me and this time was smiling. 'Too long...' she whispered. 'Only... don't expect too much of an old woman.'

'You mustn't expect too much of me either, you know. I'm out of practice.'

In the lift she leaned against my shoulder. 'Do you really remember... that time?'

'Every detail, Roxanne. I can still feel your pussy clutching me when you came.'

She punched me playfully in the side. 'You'll embarrass me!'

Once in the room she seemed nervous. 'I'm not sure I can do this.'

'I want you, Roxanne. Does that help?'

She fiddled with her sari. I stood before her, folded my arms around her and kissed her on the mouth. Her lips were hot soft cushions. I felt her relax and soon her tongue began to work with mine. Her curvy body pressed against me, and I felt my erection rise up along her stomach. Thank god, things were working. I had been afraid that my body, temperamental some days, would refuse to obey the lust I felt in my mind.

Roxanne giggled, a girlish sound. 'We better go to bed quick!' I began to slip her sari off her shoulder, but she excused herself and went to the bathroom. I shrugged, undressed and got into bed, stroking my cock gently to keep it at full hardness. She took a long time, but finally emerged in one of the hotel's towelling robes, She had let her hair down, taken off her bangles. She looked younger, smaller.

She came over to the bedside and put her hand on the light switch. 'Do you mind?' I shook my head, and she plunged the room into darkness. I heard a swishing sound as she dropped the robe on the floor, and a hand felt for the quilt. I caught it.

'Come and fuck me, Roxanne,' I whispered. She slid into the bed next to me, her body hot and padded. I felt her breasts pushing against me. Her mouth sought mine - she was trembling. Her hand moved down my stomach to find my erection.

'Is that for me?' she whispered in wonderment.

'Mmm... you see how sexy you are.'

She slid her thigh over me and let my cock slip between her legs. I turned sideways and sought out her centre. Her bush was thick. Within it her pussy lips swelled and opened, rich hot juice between. I positioned my cock-head and bucked my hips, and slid easily into her. She sighed in contentment.

'It's just as I remember it, my love. You haven't changed.'

She chuckled throatily and clambered on top of me, her heavy breasts swinging in my face. I sucked on her fat nipples hungrily. Her padded pubes ground against me, and I felt her vaginal muscles pulling my cock into her. I let her ride me as she wanted, just steadying her with my hands on her glorious ass. She plunged up and down on my shaft, which happily proved equal to the challenge, moaning to herself in some foreign language, spilling her copious juices across my balls and thighs. Her breasts with their big firm nipples slapped my face. Sweat beaded along her spine. I entered a plane of exquisite happiness, marred only by a slight shortness of breath from her weight on me.

Roxanne achieved her climax with a shout of joy, her cunt clutched hungrily at me just as I remembered, and gratefully I exploded my fire deep inside her. She lay on me, breathing deeply, relaxed, murmuring how wonderful it had been. I felt an absurd glow of pride that I had managed to satisfy her without incident.

My cock slipped out of her and I felt the hot flood of our emissions spread over my stomach. We rolled onto our sides, still entwined. I kissed her face; to my surprise there were tears on her cheeks.

'You know when we made love that time when I was pregnant?' she asked.

'I'll never forget it.'

'There were all sorts of sexy things I wanted to do with you, but we couldn't because it wouldn't help start off the labour or something.'

There were all sorts of things I wanted to do with her too...

'Mmm?' There was a long pause.

'Is it too late to do some of them now?'

'It's never too late, Roxanne. What did you have in mind?'

She was silent, and soon I realised that she had gone to sleep in my arms. Never mind, we had the rest of our lives ahead of us. There was no hurry.

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