We met our first semester of college, and dated pretty seriously for the next couple years - until we broke up right before our senior year. Taylor was exactly my type: taller, on the thin side, long hair that turned red in the sunlight. She ran cross-country before we met, and although she didn't workout religiously she kept herself in that same kind of shape. Legs that were mesmerizing to watch when we'd go on runs together and I'd pretend to be out of breath so I could slow down and fall behind her (I was definitely pretending, and most certainly not out of shape). Shoulders that I couldn't tear my eyes away whenever I watched her get dressed up... or down.

Things ended pretty abruptly after those three years, though. After a couple weeks of squabbling about small things I got fed up and broke up with Taylor, instead of trying to figure a way through. It was not my proudest moment, and I chalk it up to equal parts immaturity, and feeling young and confident enough to find other fish in the pond. We spent that summer and fall carefully avoiding each other.

I was never able to get over Taylor, though. Even though I had been the one to break things off, she stayed in my mind, and I always felt like there was always still a little tension between the two of us whenever we would run into each other (besides the raw emotion of having been dumped, that is). I would send the odd message, hoping to at least build back up to some semblance of friendship, with mixed results... but she at least kept responding. I was eventually able to apologize face-to-face for my part in how things ended, cleaning the air and putting us back on more normal speaking terms. Going into our last semester, I found myself watching for Taylor whenever I went out, and when I did spot her out with friends it was hard to stop myself from spending the rest of the night imagining what (or who...) she was doing.

After graduation, Taylor moved to a nearby city while I stayed put, waiting to start my job. Luckily for me, distance seemed to make the heart grow fonder, and as we kept chatting back and forth things warmed up enough for us to carry casual conversations over text or the odd phone call. Every so often our conversations almost felt like they had when we first met - then we'd remember how things had ended and go back to being carefully platonic. I decided that we shouldn't, and couldn't, be anything more than friends, and genuinely tried my hardest not to lead her on or take things back in a romantic direction as we rebuilt our friendship.

After a couple months of this, Taylor mentioned that she would be coming through town for a work trip. Trying not to leap at the opportunity, I (very calmly and casually and with no nerves whatsoever) invited her to hang out with my roommate and I, if she found a free night during the week. For some reason Taylor agreed, and I spent the next 3 days getting ready like any normal friend would: running through every possible scenario, obsessively cleaning and curating every corner of my room (just in case), and spending long cold showers debating whether I should leave my condoms sitting in my nightstand or hide them under the sink. You know, normal friend stuff.

I was cool as a campfire by the time The Night rolled around, having decided that the best case scenario was a friendly hang out, nothing more. Baby steps - this was, after all, the first time we'd be meeting up in person on friendly terms again. I somehow managed not to drink myself (and my nerves) into oblivion before Taylor arrived, and my roommate - who knew her and knew all about our history - and I were tastefully buzzed by the time she showed up.

As soon as I answered the door I caught the tiniest hint of the same perfume that she had worn while we were together. The gears in my head came to a scre1eching halt at the scent and the memories it instantly brought back; my resolve and determination that nothing could happen between us immediately cracked. After my brain started working again I reminded myself she had just spent all day dressed up at a conference, so of course she'd have worn perfume. I regained my composure, and held myself together remarkably well (if I do say so myself) while we breezed through making dinner, and afterwards we spread out into the living room for video games and drinks. So far it was going about as well as I could've hoped; it felt like we just picked up right where we'd left off all those many months ago, although maybe a little more polite and formal as we felt each other out. I genuinely can't think of another time I experienced such profound relief.

After a few hours of reliving old stories, playing games, and more rounds of mixed drinks, Taylor and I ended up on the same couch. At first I stayed a tasteful distance away as we chatted over the game we were playing, but soon Taylor stretched out across her half of the couch while we played and I (very platonically and most definitely with no ulterior motives whatsoever) tested my luck and slowly inched my way towards her. Taylor had always been very competitive, and this night was no exception. It wasn't long until we were shoulder to shoulder, ribbing each other as our shit-talking and banter reached old heights. After so long apart from her, every touch felt like being zapped with electricity, even when it was just her leg brushing up against mine, or her trying to swat my controller out of my hand. It was getting harder and harder to keep myself convinced she wasn't getting more physical as we went on, but I managed. I could feel my resolve slipping away with each inch that we ended up closer together.

At some point my roommate called it a night and headed to his room, and then I really had to double down on trying not to think anything other than Good Friend thoughts now that Taylor and I were alone. By then the mood was almost like our first few dates, and I kept telling myself not to read into anything: if she was sneaking glances my way it was surely just to figure out what my next move was; I was a natural-born comedian so of course she would be giggling at all of my dumb jokes; and she was definitely just leaning her head on my shoulder because that's what any old friend would do.

Despite my internal battle, I was genuinely glad at how the night had turned out thus far. By the time we called it quits and switched over to watching TV to wind down, I was happy to just be in her company, riding the last of my buzz and listening to Taylor's laugh again. I had even almost gotten over the intoxicating whiffs of her perfume.

Eventually the evening up caught up with me and I found myself nodding off. I looked down and saw Taylor had dozed off already, curled up against my side. I reached for the blanket that I had draped just so over the back of the couch that morning (it really tied the living room together) so I could cover Taylor before retreating to my room for the night; then I paused.

I stared down at her, fully awake now, as two halves of my brain started a furious debate: do I 1) do the Right Thing, sticking to my resolution and leaving Taylor to her spot on the couch, or 2) risk everything and take my chance to snuggle up? Was I just imagining the tension between us or had Taylor actually been flirting with me?

I wish I could say I took the high road and played the perfect gentleman by spending a stoic night alone in my room... but then I wouldn't be telling this story.

After pondering my dilemma for an eternity (3 seconds), I gave in to the demon on my shoulder. I carefully pulled the blanket up and over us, and gently nudged Taylor. She shifted just enough for me to wiggle in behind her, and just like that I was spooning my ex-girlfriend on the couch. By now my heart was pounding, but I managed to calm down enough to drift off again, wedged between couch cushions that were entirely too fluffy and Taylor's curled up body.

A little while later, in the wee hours of the morning, I woke up in a state of general discomfort. I could tell Taylor wasn't sleeping very well either, so being the thoughtful gentleman that I am, I nudged her again and asked, "Do you want to move upstairs to a real bed?"

Taylor groggily nodded and whispered, "Yes, please."

I scooped Taylor up to my room, and before I realized it had automatically laid her down on what used to be her half of the bed. I crawled in next to her, thinking carefully about what the appropriate distance was between ex-lovers, before finally succumbing to the sweet embrace of furniture that was actually meant to be slept on.

I woke up again, this time to late morning sunlight creeping in through the windows, hitting Taylor's hair just the right way to make it bring out her reddish tint. This was a sight I hadn't seen in over a year, and thought I never would again. Once again I found myself locked in an internal battle: do I 1) do the Right Thing and go down to make breakfast for my old friend, or 2) lean over and kiss the lips I'd been thinking about on and off for the last year?

If you've read this far, then I think you know which side of the argument I found more compelling. I'm not proud to admit that I'm a sleazebag, but hey, I am honest enough to admit it.

I gently pulled myself close to Taylor, wrapping her up in a hug as she rolled over to let me spoon her. It wasn't long before she woke up too, and my heart rate spiked as we approached The Moment of Truth. I was either about to find out that I had been reading the signals right, or get knocked out cold with an elbow to the face.

Taylor looked up at me as she blinked the sleep from her eyes, then broke into a smile. I smiled back, then gently went in for The Kiss, tentatively pressing my lips to hers. She stiffened for a moment, and my heart stopped; then she pulled me into the most intense kiss we had ever shared. The last hints of her perfume in her hair filled my senses now, and if I had died right then I would've died the happiest man on earth.

After that I knew it was on. We didn't speak a word as we both breathlessly stripped down to our underwear, staring hungrily at each other's bodies again for the first time since the breakup. Taylor smiled and bit her lip appreciatively as I pulled my boxers down; I caught my breath and tried to bite my lip just as sexily when she reached behind her back to lower her bra. The sight of Taylor's creamy breasts and pink nipples sent whatever blood was left in my head straight down to my pelvis. Her chest was as perfect as I remembered, the light catching her curves just right as she sat up to show them off.

After admiring the view for as long as I could stand I pulled her close so I could kiss each of her breasts in turn. I grinned at the sound of her whimpered moans as I swirled my tongue around each of her hardening nipples. I had always loved feeling them come to life when I teased them, and playing with them always drove her crazy. Our hands ran wild over the other's body, as if we needed to feel every last inch of each other after being apart so long. I ran my fingers down her long legs, up her hips, across her back. I left kisses around each of her creamy breasts, on the little scar on her chest, across her collarbones, up her neck. I nibbled at her ear as she moaned into mine, and wrapped each of her wrists in my hands, pinning them beside us.

I gently pushed her down on her back as I kissed my way down her tight stomach to her panties. I skipped right past them and went straight to Taylor's thighs, kissing my way back up each of them as she sighed, her head twisting around in a pile of her pretty copper hair. I looked up at her, nodding towards her panties and raising my eyebrows in a question.

Taylor grinned and nodded, and I pulled her panties down slowly over her long legs, taking in the view: her tall, slender body stretched out on my bed again, just the way I'd remembered it; her hair just barely covering her nipples; her broad smile twisting as she bit her lip again. I had spent a lot of nights thinking about all the things I would do to Taylor if I had the chance again, and by God I was going to take this chance to do as much as I could.

I ran my lips back up her legs, stretching the moment out as long as I could before settling over her delicate pussy. I looked up at her one more time, then dove in, pressing my tongue against her lips as I reached up to run my fingers around her chest. Taylor's reaction was music to my ears, and I smiled as I went through every last trick I knew... which wasn't a lot back then, but it was enough to get the job started. I reached one hand up so I could slip a finger in while I kept my tongue on her clit. My free hand was kept busy teasing each of her nipples and tracing the curves of her breasts. God, I had missed her body. It wasn't long before she was reaching down, wrapping her hands in my hair as she ground herself against my mouth. I happily let her suffocate me between her thighs, putting my tongue and fingers to work until I felt her legs clench around me as she moaned through an orgasm. I gazed up at the incredible sight of her face lost in pleasure, her lips parted and frozen in a silent moan, and her hair spilling out around her head.

Having checked that off my To Do list, I let Taylor pull me up towards her, running my fingers up her legs as I lay next to her. I kept a finger gently brushing across her clit, as I took the chance to wipe my face clean before we went back to rediscovering each other's lips. I watched as Taylor closed her eyes, leaning back as she lost herself in the moment, before she suddenly pushed me onto my back and straddled my hips. Even the tiniest brush of her body against mine sent my head(s) reeling. Taylor looked down at me with a look of sexy confidence, and I knew that she knew that she had my full and undivided attention. She teased me for a few moments, rocking her hips gently and sending shocks through my body with her slightest move. I cupped my hands around her tight little ass, holding her against me for a moment before she broke free to start kissing down my chest, over my stomach, and finishing at my hips.

The sight of Taylor winking up at me through her messy morning hair, her slim body kneeling over mine, will forever be seared into my head. The memory of her soft lips kissing down my stomach and onto the tip of my cock is enough to get me hard as a rock to this day. But both of those pale in comparison to the memory of the next t̶e̶n̶ f̶i̶v̶e̶ two minutes of absolute heaven she showed me next.

I felt my soul leave my body as Taylor finally stopped teasing me and took me fully into her mouth. She began by slowly plunging my cock into her mouth, inch by agonizing inch. I wrapped my hands in her hair, holding her steady as she reached the bottom. Just as slowly, she pulled her lips back up my length, her fingers wrapping around me reached the tipvof my cock. The entire time she stared up at me from between her locks of auburn hair. Looking back it probably took all of 20 seconds, or about 5 second for every inch, but it was the most glorious 20 seconds of my life to that point. I'm still amazed I didn't finish and pass out right then.

Maybe it was the long break, maybe it was the unexpected thrill of being with her again, maybe she had picked up a couple new tricks during our time apart... either way, I lost all sense of time, space, and dignity as Taylor worked her magic. The sounds I made and the things I said with my cock between her soft lips would probably get me deported from any civilized country. None of the 14,000,605 possibilities I had gone through in my head the day before remotely included what that was currently happening between my legs. I felt myself racing towards the edge and knew there was no way I was gonna last.

Before I got too far, though, I knew there was one more box I had to check off of my To Do list.

I frantically tapped Taylor on the shoulder, and motioned for her to flip around when she looked up at me questioningly. She paused, then smiled and rolled her eyes as she turned her body once she understood. I took this chance to catch my breath and admire every last curve as Taylor gave me a show.

As much as I loved the sight of Taylor's lips wrapped around my cock, I had always loved getting tangled up in a sixty-nine with her when more. She settled her hips over my head, and I put my tongue back to work, hoping I was giving even a quarter of the pleasure I was getting. As my tongue flicked between her lips and around her clit, Taylor let out the most sensual moans with my cock still in her mouth. It took every ounce of willpower not to finish right then and there.

I ran my hands over every inch of her body that I could reach, trying to distract myself by exploring all the curves I'd been missing for so long. Finally I decided I might last a few seconds longer if I focused on squeezing and playing with her tight ass. She'd always had a slim, toned body, and this was the perfect angle to admire it from. The morning light hit her creamy skin just right. The image of her legs wrapped up around my chest, her tight ass and pussy just above me, and her beautiful chest pressed against me is forever burned into my consciousness.

I would like to claim that we spent a respectable amount of time locked together like that, enjoying each other for hours. In reality, it was probably less then a minute before Taylor was stroking the last drops of cum out of me. She collapsed on top of me as I spent the last moments of my orgasm paying her back with a second one of her own. Then, satisfied with her work, Taylor swung herself off my twitching body, laying back next to me as we pulled each other close. We lay there, regaining our breath, just feeling each other again. I caught one last whiff of perfume as her hair settled around our heads.

Finally, I looked over at Taylor and spoke the first word to leave either of our mouths since the night before.

"Breakfast?"