Internal Affairs

Dick, The Finale

I think it was Julia Child who said, “With enough butter anything is good.”

You know, she was right about that. Although, I will admit that Dick was good without the butter, but the butter made it better. Somehow it made the steamy hot scene, even sexier.

Thankfully we moved from in front of the (hot) stove to the kitchen table. I can still hear the sound of the table scraping on the tile floor from the friction of his rhythmic pace. I can still remember the way he gripped my hips. The way he ravaged me. And I also remember that I loved every second of it.

As he came closer to the edge, he reached around and began torturing my clit with his fingers. I simply could not take all of that stimulation at once and had a sobbing, screaming orgasm, right there, face down on his kitchen table. He came soon after I did, collapsing beside me on the table.

We just looked at each other for what seemed an eternity. Neither of us said anything. My face was tear-stained from the intensity of what had just happened.  He looked at me with such concern, wiping my eyes with his thumb. And without a word, Dick took me by the hand and led me to another part of the house to the guest bathroom. I’d not noticed it before, but this bathroom had a huge claw-foot tub.

He turned on the water and walked out of the bathroom for me to have a bath. I gingerly got into the tub and relaxed in the warm water. I was spent. Completely spent. It was so soothing. The lights were dim, as it was only illuminated by the light from the hallway.  I was exhausted and relaxed. Just as I was about to doze off, he walked in with a plate of eggs and some juice.

He sat on the floor next to the tub and we shared a plate of cold eggs and dry toast. Again, neither of us saying anything. When we were finished, he took the plate back to the kitchen and returned with a towel for me.  I dried off and practically stumbled to his bed. He showered and joined me soon after.

We slept until noon.

I remember the soreness I felt that day. Every muscle in my body ached. It was a good sore. I liked that feeling. Dick woke up, turned on the coffee pot and dressed for his daily run. Every day, he ran at least three miles. It was his drug. I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat outside while I waited for him.

When he returned home, I asked him, “So what’s on the agenda today?”

He grinned a devilish grin, and I thought, oh shit…I cannot handle any more sex right now. My legs felt like Jello and I knew I’d probably pass out at the first orgasm.

He said, “Hmmm, Tess.  I don’t know. Let’s grab a late lunch and maybe see a movie or something?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. My poor body needed a respite from the sex marathon we’d had. I said, “Lunch and a movie? That sounds great!”

He smiled and said, “Good! But on the way home, I need to pick up some things at the store.”

“I am all out of butter.”

On a side note, I later realized that Dick’s ingenuity with butter was not likely his original idea. About seven years ago, I watched the movie, The Last Tango in Paris, for the first time. I have a sneaky suspicion, Dick took that taboo tidbit from the infamous butter scene.

Such a bad boy, that Dick.  

bathtub-1

(Photo credit: Pinterest)

A Man Named Dick (part 3)

He was standing in front of me and the boyish grin had faded. I recognized the look in his eyes. He was a hedonistic beast enslaved with lust, determined to have his way with me.  He picked me up by my ankles and pulled me over to the edge of the bed.

“Hold your hips up off of the bed, until I tell you to stop.” he ordered. “Up. Up. I want them suspended up. Good. Just like that”

I balanced my hips in the air, slightly off of the bed as he instructed. He then spread my legs open and dropped to his knees pulling my hips into his face. His tongue was experienced and unforgiving as he consumed me. I was at his mercy and he knew it. He held me at an angle where my only choice was to take what he dished out. As much as I wanted to squirm, there was nowhere to run. He had me. In a matter of minutes, oceans of orgasms washed over me. There was no time to recover. He pushed my legs back to my shoulders and pushed himself inside me. All of his ample cock filled me at once. He hooked his arms under mine and held the tops of my feet to my shoulders as he proceeded to savagely fuck the hell out of me.  Just as I was about to reach my edge, he stopped.

He flipped me over to my stomach and took me from behind. I’ve always enjoyed it like that, but he picked up my leg and held my foot on his shoulder. He drove himself in deeper in that position and my legs began to shudder from my impending orgasm.

“You like that don’t you, Tess? I bet you don’t get done like this when that pager beeps, do you?”

I couldn’t even muster a word. I was spilling over the edge as was he. We collapsed from the frenzied fuckfest we’d just had. I looked over at him and the beast was gone. Dick was back, smiling that boyish grin.

“Did you enjoy that, Dick” I coyly asked.

“Of course I did. But the real question is, did YOU enjoy it, Tessa?”

I looked up at him, makeup smeared, hair sweaty, heart racing and said, “Yes. I was surprised by you. I didn’t take you for such a bad boy.”

He smiled and got up from the bed. “Yeah, most people think I am nice guy. And I am, but I have a dark side. Now let’s get dressed and go out.”

WTH? Disco Hell? After all of that?

We arrived at the Red Lion Pub around midnight.  The parking lot was full and you could hear the music from outside. The place was packed. I’d managed to pull myself together  with a quick shower and another drink. My outfit was perfect for the occasion. Dick seemed to like it.  He looked disco-chic, wearing some black pants and a dark blue button down, opened up to his chest. He was sporting a fake gold medallion necklace and totally looked the part. It was fun to dress up like that for a change.

We walked in and went to the bar. Dick ordered us a round of shots.  And another. After all of that sex and no dinner, I was almost drunk.  Dick led me to the dance floor and we starting dancing.

This clean cut boy was just full of surprises. Not only was he a sex machine, but he had some smooth moves. Pretty soon, we were in full swing…like we were in the dance contest on Saturday Night Fever. We never left the dance floor. It was great fun.

We closed down the pub around 3:00 and ventured back to his house.  I was thirsty and starving. And sore. With all of the acrobatic sex and dancing, I felt like I’d just done a P90X (more like a P90-SEX) workout. We’d been so “busy” all night, that we’d both forgotten to eat. He suggested we make breakfast together and I was all for that.

He retrieved some eggs and butter from the fridge for scrambled eggs. He asked me to make them while he put on some coffee and made the toast.  I love to cook, so I was happy to oblige. Just as I finished whisking the eggs, I felt him standing behind me.  His hand ventured up my skirt and he slowly pulled my panties down.

“What about the eggs?” I asked. I knew once we got started, there would be no way I could cook.

“Just keep doing what you are doing, Tessa” he quipped.

So I managed to pour the eggs into the hot pan and finish them. He stood behind me the entire time. I moved the pan to a cool place on the stove and turned to face him.

“The eggs are ready” I said.

“I know. We should let them cool a bit, don’t you think?”

I agreed. I could see that he wanted me right there in the kitchen. I recognized that look in his eyes. I turned back around to make sure I’d turned off the stove and he moved in closer behind me, pulling up my skirt as he unzipped his pants.  I could feel his hard cock touching my back. I wanted him again, badly.

He reached for the stick of butter on the counter. He unwrapped it and began smearing it all over his fingers. I was a bit confused as to what he was doing. I’d experimented with “food” play before, but never with butter.

Before I could figure out what was about to happen, I felt the cold stick of butter on my ass. Was he really smearing butter on my ass? And then he spread my cheeks and rubbed the stick of butter around my hole, fingering it with his slippery fingers. It was unlike anything I’d felt before. The butter was becoming soft in his grip and he slathered some on his cock. Then I got the memo. He was going to take my ass…right then, right there in the kitchen and butter was his medium.

You know, this brings a whole new take on buttering the biscuits…

(To be continued)

in the kitchen-best

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

A Man Named Dick (Part 2)

He moved closer to me and said, “You do make house calls don’t you, Tess?”

I grinned and said, “I sure do, Dick. For you, I will.”

So it was set…

I was making a “house call” as he so cleverly put it.  When it was time to leave for the day, Dick pulled me aside.

“Why don’t you just spend the weekend with me?”

I thought about it for a minute. I was off of “call” for the weekend. I had no other plans. He was a good kisser with an obvious dirty side. So I thought, what the hell…

“Sure, I’d like that.”

He smiled, “Good. Pack a bag and meet me over at my place around 8:00. We may be going out, so bring more than your nightie.” He snickered and winked at me.

“Where are we going?” I asked. I needed to know so I could prepare the perfect outfit.

He played coy with me, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe dinner. Maybe drinks. Maybe hell”

“Hell?” (What the hell does “hell” mean???)

He said, “Yes, Hell.  Disco Hell. You up for it?”

Disco Hell was a themed night a local bar/pub sponsored once a month. They played 70’s disco music and most people dressed for the occasion in their bell bottoms, and disco dresses. And I had the PERFECT ensemble already.

My answer to him, “Hell yes!”

I got home and packed accordingly. I brought a sexy black gown, heels, a couple of outfits and a sultry sundress and my outfit for Disco Hell. It was a micro mini in a Pucci print, with a plunging halter top and platform heels. I managed to sell my plans to my suspicious parents (I’d just moved back home) as a girl’s trip to Athens for the weekend, and I set off to Chez Dick.

He lived in the historic district of town, where many of the old houses had been converted into apartments. I assumed he lived in an apartment too, but he actually lived in a house. It was a bungalow style from the 1940’s, mostly renovated. It was small but very nice. He met me at the car and helped me carry my bags in.

He took my bags to his room and toured me around the house. We ended up in the kitchen where he fixed me a drink and we sat in there and talked for a while. The chemistry seemed to be fading and I wondered if I’d made the right decision to spend the weekend.

It was almost 10:00 and the drinks were making me sleepy.  Maybe I was bored, who knows.  Dick could tell I was losing interest and said, “Get dressed, let’s go out.”

I hesitated for a moment, but then I remembered it was Disco Hell and I had a fabulous outfit. I excused myself to the bathroom to touch up my makeup and came out to get my outfit, where I found Dick lying on the bed, completely naked.

“I don’t have anything to wear to Disco Hell.” he smirked.

I took his cue and stripped down right there, and said, “Neither do I.”

He stood up and walked over to me. We stood there admiring each other. His physique was lean and toned. I’d not realized how tall he was, as I was usually wearing some type of heels. Naked and barefoot, I felt small in his presence. He pulled my mouth towards his and kissed me…like he meant it. I almost lost my balance. To play it off, I stepped back and gracefully dropped to my knees.

I looked up at him and saw that boyish grin on his face. I thought to myself, ‘he has no idea who he has in his bedroom right now…I am about to blow his mind.’ And I focused on his hard cock facing me.

And holy shit….Dick had a huge one. He was originally from the Midwest and I’d heard those Nebraska, corn-fed boys were big-hanging, but I had no idea Dick was packing such a compromising package. No wonder he went by the name Dick. Sorry, I digress.  But damn.

I was swift in my work, taking the entire length of his shaft down my throat. I was determined not to gag, because I was a professional after all. I should be able to handle my liquor and my Dick. And as I concentrated on the task at hand, I felt his hands on the back of my head.

“Take it all, Tess. You horny girl. Take it all. You want me to fuck your mouth don’t you? Don’t answer that. I know you do. Keep sucking that huge cock.”

Had my mouth not already been wide-ass open, I would have probably sat there with my mouth wide-ass open in shock, hearing such dirty talk from Mr. Nice Guy, Dick.

He pushed himself in and out of my mouth until I was a slobbering mess.  The makeup I’d just applied was long gone. We went on like that for a while when he pulled me up from the floor and put me onto the bed.

“Damn, you are good. I knew you would be. You have a certain look about you, Tess. You do know what your are doing. Now I am going to show you a thing or two.”

(To be continued)

Dick-pt 2

A Man Named Dick (Part 1)

His name was Dick.

No, I am serious.  His real name was Richard, but he went by Dick. I met him in the summer of 1994. We worked together at the penis pump company (that’s enough for an entire post on its own…it was a legitimate medical company that sold erection devices.) Dick worked in technical support and I worked in customer service and if you will recall at that time,  I’d just begun my first “side hustle” as an escort.

And now that I write this, I find it ironic that both of my jobs involved sex.

Life was easy back then. My work schedule was 10:00 am-6:00 pm (the same as his) and I’d leave work, go home and get ready for any “calls” I had for the evening.  I stayed pretty busy and there was little time for dating anyone, but Dick was persistent.  Several times a week he would ask me out for dinner, a drink, coffee, a walk…anything.

So one night, I accepted. I decided to live a little. We went out to a downtown pub and had some drinks and appetizers. It was fun. He was a great guy. Blonde, blue-eyed, tall and lean. He was a runner and in excellent shape. And he was a good guy…squeaky clean. Not my type at all.  But still, the date was going well and I enjoyed spending time with him.

And then my pager began going off.  I muted it and carried on with the date. It went off again. And again. So I politely excused myself to the bathroom, found a pay phone (remember this was 1994) and called the boss, Gina.

“Where are you?” she asked. I could tell she was irritated.

“Sorry, I am on a date.” I replied.

She giggled. “Crap! I forget that you still date. Do you want to take a couple of calls for me tonight? These two have asked for you specifically.”

So I pondered it for a moment…two regulars would mean a lot of money. These two would tip well also. So I asked her to give me some time and I would make it happen.

I went back to the table and finished my drink. And made up an excuse to cut it short. Lucky for me, he bought it. We walked to my car and said, “I enjoyed this. What are you doing tomorrow night?”

I thought about it for a moment. Maybe I could pull it off…dating and working? So I smiled a devious grin, “I don’t know, Dick. What are we doing?”

He smiled, “Something fun. How about dinner and the comedy club?”

That would not work for me.  It would take way too much time. So I said, “Let’s save the club for another time, tomorrow is a work night.”  He agreed. And as I turned to get into my car, he laid a kiss on me that made my toes curl.  This clean-cut boy clearly had some skills.

So I went home, changed clothes, packed my bag of tricks and headed out for the first call.  It was Andy, one of my favorites.  We always had a great time together. He was the one who liked to fuck me in front of the mirror. That night was no exception. He paid for additional time and I almost forgot about my next call.  But I made it just in time.

The next regular was nothing to write home about. I loved the conversation, but the sex was mediocre. It seemed every time we saw each other, it was always mediocre. I think he wanted an escort more for the conversation than the sex. But he liked to tip.

The night was over and I was several hundred dollars richer. My thoughts reflected back to Dick. He had surprised me with that kiss. I wondered what he would be like in bed.

The next day arrived and work went by faster than usual. Before I knew it, the day was over and it was on to dinner with Dick. I’d told my “boss” Gina that I would not be available until after 9:00.

We ate at a small cafe on the river. It was nice. Romantic and charming. Dinner was delicious and the drinks were ever-flowing. I quickly found myself a bit tipsy.  He could see I was feeling good and suggested we take a walk along the river walk. We held hands and strolled about on the cobblestone path. I was thankful that I’d not worn my highest heels that night.

We approached an empty park along the way.  He quickly pushed me up against a tree and planted another one of those kisses on my unsuspecting lips. I could feel his desire. Actually, I could feel his hard cock through his pants, pressing against my body.

“Tess, I want you right here, right now. I’ve wanted you ever since I saw you. You are so damn sexy.”

I was shocked. Crisp and clean Dick had a dirty side. I liked it. Soon after, my blouse was open and my bra was off. He teased my hard nipples with his tongue.

And just as I was about to drop to my knees and show him my dirty side, my pager went off. Three times in a row.

I looked at my watch. It was 9:30. I needed to go.

“I would love to take this further, but I need to go for now.”

He backed away, defeated. “Why? Who pages you all the time?”

Oh shit, I thought…not prepared for that question, especially after so many drinks.

“I can’t explain now, but I promise, I will tell you later.”

And just like Cinderella, I fled the scene, except I didn’t leave my shoe behind…I left my bra.

I made it to a phone and got the info for the night.  Luckily it turned out to be one call, an older gent. I would be in and out (no pun intended) and done for the evening.  And just like that…I was.

But I needed to come up with something to tell Dick at work the next day.  I thought about it as I drove home. What if I just took a couple of nights off? That way, I could put the pager down, without feeling like I was missing out. And I could focus time with him, maybe for two consecutive days. That should throw him off of my trail.

The next day at work, Dick approached me just as I was getting coffee.

Leaning against the water cooler, he inquired, “So Tess, where did you run off to last night?”

I tried to be dismissive in my response. “Well Dick, I had something to do. I am helping a friend out with some things.” I answered.

“What kind of friend?” he inquired. Peering straight through me and my bullshit.

“Her name is Gina. I’d forgotten that she needed me to look in on some of her elderly clients. She runs a home care business” Damn, that was quick! (And I came up with that gem, in the morning…before coffee?) I was quite proud of my lie.

He smiled and whispered in my ear, “I know what you do, Tess. And it’s okay. It makes me want you more.”

Then he walked away to his desk. And I stood there stunned.

I managed to avoid chatting with him until later that day when Dick sauntered over to my desk. “Where would you like to go tonight, Tessa?” he asked.

I smiled and said, “how about the comedy club?”

He smiled and said, “how about my house?”

I licked my lips and grinned, “Even better, Dick. Even better.”

He moved closer to me and said, “You do make house calls don’t you, Tess?”

I grinned and said, “I sure do, Dick. For you, I will.”

(To be continued)

sex at work

(Photo credit: Google/Pinterest)

One Hit Wonders-Hotel Atlanta

It was January 2004.  I’d been invited by my boss to accompany her to a conference in Atlanta.  Translation:  she needed a wingman/sidekick/bad girl to hang out with her at this boring 3-day conference.  I was happy to oblige. I enjoyed any opportunity to let my hair down and sow some oats.

Her name was Jane and she was simply beautiful. She had the facial structure of Angelina Jolie, with dark auburn hair. She was tall and statuesque. Men noticed her. And you put us together with my long dark wavy hair, full lips and hourglass body, and we caused quite a stir. On our first night there, we sat at the hotel bar chatting over happy hour drinks, when we were approached by two older gentlemen.  They sat down with us and struck up a conversation. Before long, we were having dinner with them. They were from Boston, there on business with large expense accounts and even larger…egos.  We grew tired of their posturing and excused ourselves soon after dinner.

We were both tired from the day’s events and retired to our room. Since I was not a paid attendee of the conference (I was just there for Jane) I had to share a room with her.  It was no big deal, as there were 2 queen beds and a bathroom mirror large enough to accommodate us both getting ready at the same time. It was all good. We put on our pajamas, cracked open a bottle of wine and had cocktail confessions. It was like a grown-up sleepover. We laughed and giggled for hours. Jane was just as wild as me.  We shared stories of our escapades, as we finished up the wine and moved on to a fresh new bottle of gin. We were both sauced when Jane spilled an entire drink on her bed.  It was soaked.

“Guess I will just have to bunk up with you tonight!” she exclaimed.  And we laughed and drank some more. It was approaching 2:00 am, when we finally ran out of mixer and decided to go to sleep. She and I said our good-nights and crawled into my bed.  I was beginning to dose off when I felt her hand on me. I had my back to her, but felt her playing with my hair. At first, I didn’t know what to do. I’d been with women at different times in my life, but it had been years…and this was my boss. I began thinking about how she would feel, how she would taste and I slowly rolled over to face her. She looked at me and stroked my face.

“You know me spilling that drink was no accident, don’t you? I’ve wanted you since I hired you. But I don’t want you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. I just want you to know the door is open.”

And without thought, or hesitation, I leaned over and kissed her soft mouth. I don’t remember the specifics, but I do remember that we flung off the covers and sat up in the middle of the bed kissing while we undressed each other. She pulled me into her body, facing me away from her as she massaged my spot, making me cum almost immediately. I could not wait to taste her as I opened her legs and found that she was dripping wet with anticipation. I made her wait for it, teasing her by kissing her inner thighs, avoiding her sweet cunt, until she could not stand it any longer.  We fucked all night.  No inhibitions. No limits. Insatiable.  We finally collapsed as the sun rose, getting about 2 hours of sleep before we had to wake up. I heard her in the shower when I shuffled into the bathroom for a drink of water.

“Good morning, you.” she said from behind the shower curtain, “how did you sleep?”

“I didn’t get much sleep, but I feel rested,” I replied.

“Yeah, me too.” she snickered.  She soon made her way out of the shower and I jumped in.  We went about our day as if nothing had happened.  There was no awkwardness.  No shame. No difference in how we were than before it happened. I was glad.  I didn’t want there to be any strangeness.

That evening she had made plans for us to go to a local night spot for dancing.  We ate a quick dinner and hopped a cab to the club.  We danced for hours.  She found a “friend” and went back to his place.  He was a strapping young lad and I knew she was in for a good time.  I’d met a few fellas, but no one that really interested me, so I went back to the hotel. As the cab approached the door to the lobby, a man that was standing out front opened my door, “Good evening.  Let me help you out.”

I smiled and said, “Thank you. And they say chivalry is dead.”

He said, “I am proof that is not true. Let me show you.  Come have a drink with me.”

And I thought…what the hell.  Why not?

Over some very dirty Martini’s I found out he was from Ohio and was attending the same conference that we were. He mentioned seeing me during one of the workshops and wanting to ask me to dinner, but not having the opportunity.  He was nice looking and smart.  And married, like me.  He was charming and I’d already made up my mind to fuck him senseless before the night was over.

After several drinks, I excused myself for the evening.  He insisted on walking me to my room.  I knew the routine…we would kiss…our clothes would end up in a pile on the floor….we would fuck…he would leave and that would be that.  But when we got to my room, he froze.  No kiss.  No move.  Nothing.  I didn’t make a move either, I was expecting him to.  Before I knew it, he was walking away to his room.  I shrugged it off.  I would have liked to have had wild, crazy sex with a stranger, but if it was not in the cards…that was okay too.

I had just gotten undressed when I heard a tap at the door.  I peered out of the peep hole and saw him standing there.  I answered the door with nothing on but a towel, wondering if he had finally gotten up the nerve to seal the deal.  He saw me standing there barely covered and it was on.

We kissed as we made our way to the bed.  I still had the towel on, but he reached up and pulled it off of me. I began taking off his shirt and pants.  When I pulled down his boxer briefs, I was in shock. I was not expecting him to be packing.  He seemed so unsure of himself. But this fella was hung like Seabiscuit.  I was in awe.  Regardless if he had skills or not, I knew exactly what to do with that.  I could not wait to have him inside me.

After he fumbled with the condom, I finally got my wish.  His cock was so large that I felt a tinge of pain as he pushed himself inside. I loved it. He wasn’t aggressive enough for me, so I took the lead and mounted him. I don’t remember how many times I came, but I loved fucking him.  After a couple of rounds, he got dressed and left, just as Jane came in.  I told her about him and she told me about her night.  She’d had a great time with a young cowboy.  He was not as well endowed as my guest, but she had lots of fun.

And although her bed was in pristine condition, no drinks spilled on it that night, she chose to sleep with me. We didn’t do anything but sleep…tangled up and naked, both of us sated. The morning came and we were back to business as usual.  We maintained a great working friendship and never crossed that line again.  And although we work in different states, we are still friends, and Jane is just as beautiful.

jane

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

If Only For One Night…

September, 2002.  I don’t recall ever being as focused and productive in my life. I took on the challenges of each new day like a badass mercenary. I was unstoppable. It did not matter what came up at work or at home, I was up for it. The way I saw it, each new day brought me closer to the big day.

The day Courtney and I would cross our own boundaries into our magical place of refuge…each other.

The anticipation was killing me.  I found myself answering my work phone on the first ring in hopes of hearing his voice…of knowing the specifics of the plan. I got my wish a few days before the big day…he called with details.

“We have a suite at the Riverfront Marriott on Monday the 23rd.  I will arrive early in the day for meetings.  You come over when you can.  There will be an envelope for you at the front desk.” he paused, “but get there as soon as you can, I want as much time as I can have with you.”

I was speechless.  It was happening.  It was really happening….I had no reservations about crossing the threshold of infidelity.  I’d already darkened the door to the other side many times over with Greg at work.  But this was Courtney.  This was different…this was the love of my life.  I didn’t know if I could I ever walk away from him again.

“Hello?  Tess are you there?” he asked

I quickly responded, “Yes!  Yes I am here.  Just thinking.  Taking it all in…that’s all.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” he asked.

“No” I replied.  “Not at all.  I can’t wait to see you.  I do worry that I may not be able to walk away again.”

“Tessa, we will be fine.  We can handle this.  If it gets too much, I will be the one to stop it before it goes there. I’ve got us. Okay?”

That made me feel better.  I’d always been the one to shut it down.  I’d been the one to walk away.  I felt safe knowing he would take care of us…that I didn’t have to.

I’d been planning my fake out-of-town meeting for a week  before my husband took notice.  I told him over dinner one night and then casually brought it up again a few days later.  He seemed uninterested and asked if he needed to pick up our son. As I was about to answer, he said, “So you’ll be gone on the 23rd? Overnight?”

“Yes.  Remember?  I told you last week.  There’s a training in Savannah on Tuesday, I will have to go down there on Monday evening.”

He looked irritated, “That’s not going to work, Tess.  Remember, I have my safety conference in Boulder that week. Someone needs to be here for Nick.  Your parents hate driving on this side of town, so you need to stay. I am not cancelling my plane reservation last minute. Maybe you can do the training another time.”

I felt like I’d be punched in the gut.  All of the air was sucked out of my balloon. I nodded in agreement and made my way to the kitchen to wash the dishes when it hit me.  He will be gone for a week…in Colorado…halfway across the US.  I can still see Courtney.  I thought further…I will have Nick stay with his friend overnight and all will be as planned.  Hot Damn, Van Damme!  You can’t keep a good girl down.

The next day, when I spoke to Courtney, I told him about the near miss.  He chuckled, “we should cancel the hotel reservation and I should just come over to  your house.”

We were both silent as we pondered the scenario.  I laughed…then he laughed…then we were silent.  And then I said, “Sure. You should come over.”

And it was settled.  We decided to take it there…yes….there.  Nothing like peppering in more spice to an already volatile mixture.  I felt it was safe…John was flying out on Sunday morning and I would have verification he arrived long before Monday evening.  Courtney could park his car in the garage where it wouldn’t be seen.  We could actually “play house” in my house, doing all of the naughty things one should do at their domicile.

Monday arrived and I was calm.  Very calm.  I arranged for Nick to stay over at his friend’s house and made my way home from work.  Courtney was planning to come over around 8:00, when it was beginning to get dark, but not so late it would alert any of my curious neighbors.  I opened the garage about 7:50 and he arrived at 8:00 exactly.  I stood in the doorway to the kitchen as he got out of his car.

“So this is what coming home to you would feel like?” he muttered as he walked up the steps into the house.  He threw his overnight bag on the floor and took my face in his hands.  “A man could get used to this, you know?” and he overtook me with a kiss that made me stumble in my stance.

I took him on a tour of the house and we ended back in the kitchen, where I’d made us some appetizers to nosh on.  He made us both a drink and we stood there…staring at each other for the longest time.

“Are you sure about this, Tess?” he asked.  I nodded.  “Yes”

And with that affirmation, he pushed me up against the wall, pinning me with his body, unbuttoning my blouse, exposing my red lacy bra. Within seconds, my shirt was off…his shirt was off. Then my skirt.  His pants.  We stood there and admired each other.  I dropped to my knees and took him deep in my mouth.  His head fell back and he let out a loud groan.  He grasped my hair in his hands and pushed me into his body.

“My god you are amazing” he whispered as I continued to take him deep in my throat.  My knees were sore from the cold floor below and I didn’t care.  I wanted nothing more than to be with him…in that moment. I wanted him to feel immense pleasure.  After a few minutes he pulled me up to my feet and walked me into the bedroom.

He carefully guided me to the bed, opening my legs with his.  Softly kissing my breasts down to my navel and then to my sweet spot.  He held my legs open onto his shoulders as he made me cum over and over.  I had not had orgasms like that in years and I began losing my voice from screaming so loudly.  He rolled me over onto my stomach where he traced my spine with his tongue.  Over and over.  I almost came unglued.  It was beyond sensual and I was lost in him again.  It was like it was before, only better, more intense, more mature.

He pulled me up to my knees and pushed himself inside me, taking my breath away just as he did the first time we were together.  He filled me.  All of me.  We fell into a rhythm as we made love on my bed.  We fucked for hours in every way possible, making up for our eight year hiatus. In between orgasms we talked and spooned and dozed off.  He stroked my hair and told me about his life.  About his kids.  About his job.  I did the same.  Neither of us were miserable in our ascribed paths, but neither of us were really happy. .

We watched the sun rise that morning, as we did on our first night.   I made us a cup of coffee and we drank it, tangled up together in bed.  We took a shower and got ready for work.  I could barely walk and I was exhausted…but I was fulfilled.  Complete in a way that I’d not been in years…eight years to be exact.

I watched him leave from my driveway with a sense of longing.  I wished we could have made a life together, but maybe this is how it is supposed to be…maybe some things are too good, too intense. They burn at too high of a temperature.  Maybe this was the only way “we” could be “us”.

I’d not paid any attention to his CD.  Our evening was so incredible, that I was lost in him and had no recollection of the songs he’d put together for us.  I took it out of the stereo and popped into the car for my drive to work.  And as I pulled out of the driveway, “If Only for One Night” came on.

It was apparent that he finally understood what I’d figured out eight years before…we could never get it together to be together, but we would never be over.  Even if it were just one night at a time…with eight years in between…that was enough.

It was enough. If only for one night…

one-night

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

Suspended by Time and Space…

I apologize for my long absence.  I’ve been held captive.  Against my will (in a way even I don’t like).  Responsibility has had her long claws in me and I’ve not been able to break free for some time.  But with the hustle and bustle of the holiday season behind me, I have managed to escape to share more of my tawdry tales with you.

A couple of posts back I wrote about the first time I fell in love.  His name was Courtney and we had an incredibly hot, tumultuous relationship that lasted for almost a year. We loved fiercely.  We lived together. We broke up.  We got back together.  Repeat.  Over and over again.  After months apart, I decided another reconciliation was too much for my heart to handle.  But he called me one evening in December and I agreed to see him one last time.  It was Christmas Eve, 1994, and we planned to have lunch at one of our favorite restaurants. Since it had been months since we’d seen each other, I wanted to look especially hot for our date.  I wore a tight red sweater with a plunging neckline, a black pencil skirt with black thigh high tights and boots. I simply “forgot” to wear panties. My hair was long and wild.  I walked into the cafe and our eyes met.  That man always made me smile.  He hugged me and I felt whole again.  I knew we wouldn’t work…we had tried so many times before and failed, but it felt so good to be back in his arms.  Neither of us ate much, as we were captivated by each other’s presence.

After lunch, Courtney took me on a drive in his new Land Rover.  We visited a secluded park by the river.  It was empty, as most people were home for Christmas Eve.  Without words, without prompting, we both got out of the front and moved to the backseat.  He hiked up my skirt and opened my legs, revealing my lack of panties.  He grinned as he pulled my hips towards his mouth.  Almost instantly, he made me cum and I longed to have him inside me.  He pulled me on top of him and I straddled his hard cock as we gazed into each other’s eyes.  He brushed the hair back from my face and said, “I have missed you so much.  Let’s try this again.  I want you to move back in with me.  We will make it work this time.”

I looked into his eyes as he pushed himself deeper inside me. I wanted to say yes.  I wanted to be with him, but I knew we would fall apart again. I nuzzled in his neck and whispered, “I want nothing more, Courtney, but this will be our last time together.  I cannot go back.  We aren’t meant to be long-term.  We both know it.”

His eyes seemed to well-up for a moment as we continued to make love.  He knew I was right. We had an amazing afternoon together and soon it was time for me to go.  I had a date later that night and needed to get ready.  The guy was a smart, but boring, safe choice that I later married.  I felt sick as Courtney and I said our goodbyes, but I pulled it together and dressed for my date, all the while, thinking of the steamy afternoon.

As I mentioned, I married the man I saw later than night.  We never had the passion I shared with Courtney, but he was stable and easy to manage.  I grew bored early in the relationship, but focused my frustrations, putting more time into my career and then into being a mother.  I managed to stay on the straight and narrow for several years until a handsome co-worker lured me to the dark side.  Once I crossed that threshold, there was no going back.

One fall afternoon in 2002, I ran into Courtney’s mother at the hospital.  She was a nurse and I was there to see a patient for work.  We hugged and reminisced about days past.  She told me Courtney had finished school and was managing a region of dialysis clinics.  She said he was married with two daughters.  I smiled.  I was happy for him.  It sounded like he had found happiness. I told her to tell him, “hello” for me next time she talked with him, and we parted ways.

The next morning I received a call at work.  It was him.

“Hey Tessa, it’s me.” he said.  I knew his voice immediately.

“Courtney!  It’s so good to hear your voice.  How are you?” I replied

“I am better now that I know where you are.  I am coming to see you.  What are your lunch plans on Thursday?”

I felt a nervous tinge in my stomach…he always caused me to have butterflies.

“I’m, uh….free.  And you know I’m married, Courtney” I said.  Thinking back to our last lunch, I knew where things could go.

“Of course I know you’re married. It’s lunch, Tess.  Between good friends.” he assured me that it would just be lunch.  Nothing else.

“Okay.  Do you want me to meet you at the cafe?” I asked.

“No, I will pick you up at work, around noon.” he said.

“Okay, here’s the address.  It’s 21…” and he interrupted me…”I talked to my mother and then I called you…I do know where you are, Tess.  I will be there on Thursday. Can’t wait to see you!”

I was a ball of nerves for the rest of the day.  It was Tuesday.  I only had two days to prepare.  Thursday arrived and I got to work earlier than I’d ever been. I was so nervous.  So excited.  So curious to see how he looked.  Eager to breathe in his cologne.  I’d dressed to impress and paid careful attention to my hair and makeup.  I wanted to look good for him.  I wore a dark chocolate brown sweater that showed my form, with a sexy (but work appropriate) skirt and heels.  My hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail.  I looked professional and sexy.

I was completely distracted by his impending arrival. As the morning dragged on, my eyes were on the clock and then the door. Each time the door opened, I looked up from what I was doing to see if it was him, feeling disappointed when it was someone else.  At 11:45, I heard the door open and I looked up to see him walking in.

My heart stopped.  He was even more handsome than I’d remembered.  Tall.  Lean. Impeccably dressed.  He swaggered in with purpose, wearing a camel colored leather topcoat, a crisply ironed shirt and slacks.  He had grown a goatee and his thick hair was cropped short.  The receptionist was giddy as she greeted him.  She was smitten with his dashing looks and charm. She directed him to my office and before I knew it, we were locked in an embrace.  The embrace of an old friend, the familiarity of an old lover, the sensuality of a love suspended by time and space.

“You are beautiful, Tess.  Just stunning.  Motherhood agrees with you.” he said.  “You haven’t aged at all, you look amazing.”

I pulled back from him and gazed into his magical eyes.  “You look great, too.  So handsome and professional.  It is so good to see you.”

“Are you ready for lunch?” he asked, extending his hand to me.

“Yes!” I exclaimed, taking his strong hand in mine and following him out of the building.  He guided me to his car, a shiny black Porsche.

“You finally got your dream car!” I said, as he put me in the passenger seat.

“Yes, I did. And I love it! It took a long time to make it happen, but some things are worth the wait, you know?” he grinned.

We drove in silence to the cafe.  I was secretly hoping he would turn off on the road to that deserted park and that lunch would be “funch” instead.  But, as promised, we went to lunch. I could barely eat a bite, I was so excited to be with him.  He didn’t eat much of his meal either.  Mostly, we talked about what had happened in our lives for the last eight years.  He was in a convenient marriage, just like me.  He had two girls.  I had one son.  We compared notes on our careers and the conversation lagged.

He put his hand on mine, “I think of you every day. Every single day. I have missed you, Tess.”

“I think of you a lot too, Courtney.  But we both have commitments now and things are different.” I said. (I hated saying it, but I at least wanted to try to appear responsible and in control of myself)

“I know.  You are right.  I just wish we’d tried one more time.”

“Well, we didn’t.  And here we are.” Once again, I tried to stay on the right path.

“Here. We. Are.” he said, with a sly grin.  “I have to see you more often.  Even if it’s just for lunch. You are a part of me and I need to have you in my life.”

“Okay.  How do we do this?” I asked.  “How do we see each other, but keep a safe distance?”

“We don’t.  There’s no need for distance, Tess. We know where we are in our lives.  We can do this. We set our own rules and our own boundaries and agree to respect them.  What do you think…can we see each other sometime?”

I lost myself in his gaze and before I could stop myself, I nodded and said,  “Yes we can.”

He drove me back to the nursing center and walked me to my office.  Kissing me on the forehead, he whispered, “I will be back in 2 weeks.  Come up with a reason to be gone overnight…a meeting…a conference…something.  I will be in touch soon.”

And he walked out.

I was weak in the knees as I collapsed into the chair behind my desk, letting out a long sultry sigh.  Immediately, I fumbled through my calendar in anticipation of our reconciliation.  Which day would work best?  When will he call to let me know?  How will I manage an overnight?  My mind was going a hundred miles a minute when my office phone rang, bringing me back to reality.

“Hello, this is Tess.  How may I help you?” I answered.

“Make plans for the 22nd/23rd.  I will call you again soon,” he said. “It was great seeing you today.  Until next time, baby.”

As I put the phone down, I turned to that page in my calendar and circled the dates…grinning to myself.  It was going to happen.

(To be continued) 

the-date

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

On the Job Training

He was in his mid twenties.  Fresh out of college and ready to save the world.  He’d just finished his Masters degree in Social Work and he was on a mission. We already had a full time social worker, so he settled for a job in activities…just to get his foot in the door in healthcare.  His name was Mike.

Initially, I wasn’t attracted to him at all.  Keep in mind, Greg and I were still seeing each other on occasion, and I had no intentions of juggling more than what I already had…the one at home and the one at work. But Mike was such a nice guy…clean cut…well-dressed…punctual…polite.  He was great with the patients, although he was lacking in variety.  They did the same activities over and over.  Other than the repetition, he was doing a good job.

One evening, I was working late trying to catch up with my documentation.  He happened to be there also.  We spoke in the hall and I noticed him walking by my office a few times. I could tell he wanted to say something, but didn’t.  The next time I saw him walk by, I looked up and said, “Hey Mike!  How late are you working tonight?”

He seemed relieved that I’d spoken first.  He walked in my office, almost nervous, and said,”I don’t know.  I am waiting on my roommate to pick me up and he’s late.  I can’t get him on the phone. So I may be stuck here for a long time.”

I sincerely felt bad for him.  He was from another state, so he had no family here.  All he had were his co-workers and roommates.  I’d heard him say the he was saving up to get a new car, as his was beyond repair.  I thought…why not?  “Mike, let me give you a ride home tonight.  There’s no need for you to wait around all night.  I will be ready in about 15 minutes.  Does that work for you?”

He perked up, “Yes Ma’am.  That’s great!  Thank you!”

I was a little perplexed that he’d referred to me as “ma’am” but I was older than him, so I let it go without much thought.  When it was time to leave, he met my outside by my SUV.  He stood at the driver’s side and opened my door for me, which was a surprising nice touch.  As I drove him home, he asked if we could stop by a gas station.  I thought he needed something, but instead he walked inside and paid for gas for me.  I thought…WOW…this kid was raised right!

We pulled up to his place around 8:00.  He thanked me for the ride and walked inside.  When I arrived at work the next day, there was a cup of coffee on my desk, with a note, “Thanks for the ride, Ms. Tessa.  Enjoy your coffee”  What a sweetheart!  Then Greg walked into my office and said, “where did you get coffee?”

I smiled and said, “Mike got it for me. I gave him a ride home last night.”

I could tell he was not pleased. He smirked, “Yeah, he’s had eyes for you since he got here. Watch those young ones.  They are trouble.” And with that he walked out, heading to the morning meeting.  Whoa…I had no idea he was the jealous type.  I kind of liked it.

I arrived at the morning meeting a bit late (as always) and there were no other chairs  left for me to sit down. Dammit! It’s no fun standing in there for 30 minutes, trying to balance coffee and a notepad.  But before I could blink, Mike got up from his seat and motioned for me to take his seat.  I was reluctant at first, but I gave in.  My stilettos were high and my motivation was low…so it was a welcomed seat.  I could feel Greg’s eyes watching and I knew he was not happy.  But he liked standing up, so he didn’t have a seat to offer me.

After the meeting, I walked into my office and began my day.  It was super busy and before I knew it, it was lunchtime. I went to the break room to retrieve my lunch and Mike was in there, eating his sandwich.  I planned to eat in my office, but he pulled out a chair beside him and I felt obligated to join him  “How has your day been, Ms. Tessa?” he asked.

“It’s been busy, so your coffee hit the spot this morning.  Thank you. That was sweet of you.”  I caught him blushing as he said, “You’re welcome, Ms. Tessa”

I had to say it…”You do realize that I am only about five years older than you, don’t you?  You don’t have to call me Ms. or ma’am.  It’s sweet, but not necessary.”

He blushed again…poor thing. “I’m sorry.  I just wanted you to know how much I respect you.”

And then I saw it…what Greg was referring to…the boy had a crush on me.  Bless his heart.  “Mike, you are such a kind soul.  I appreciate your intention.  By the way, how’s the car search going?”

“It’s going.  Only have to save another few paychecks to put the money down I need.” And I made an executive decision.  This young man was trying so hard…trying to make it on his own, that I needed to help him.

“Let me know if you ever need a ride.  I am glad to do what I can to help you.” and with that, I walked out.

A few days later, Mike stopped by my office.  “Is there any way you could give me a ride today?”  I was happy to help him.  When 5:00 arrived, he was at my office, ready to go.  I was bringing home a stack of files and before I could pick them up, he had them. It felt like he was carrying my books after school.  We got to the car and once again, he opened my door.  I took him home a few times over the next few weeks.

This infuriated Greg.  We were growing apart before all of this, but his attitude towards Mike pushed me further away.  We’d been seeing each other for over a year and we were approaching an impasse. We’d gone as far as we could go in our situation, and it was time to slowly back away.  So we decided to be friends…without benefits.

And Mike and I became closer.  He was such a sweet and charming young man, that the thought of crossing the line, never crossed my mind. But one day, as I drove him home he put his hand on mine as we approached his apartment.

“Tessa, I really like you in a way that I probably shouldn’t.  And if you are not interested, I will never mention it again. But if you are, I’d love for you to come inside and let me show you how much I care for you.”

Speechless, I didn’t know what to say.  I didn’t know what to do. I knew I would blow his young mind and then I’d have a ‘stage 5 clinger’ on my hands. But I was intrigued.  It took serious balls to say what he did and it made me wonder if he didn’t have some swagger hidden underneath that college boy demeanor.

So I threw the car in park and leaned over to kiss him. That would tell me what I needed to know. And it left me breathless, wanting more.  He walked over to my side of the car, opened the door, took my hand and led me into his apartment.  His roommate was working 2nd shift, so we were alone.

Clothes began coming off in the doorway. He was a passionate kisser and seemed very experienced at removing a bra…Hmmm, maybe he has some chops.  Then he backed me up to the kitchen counter and pulled my panties down.  He knelt in front of me, lifting me by the legs with his shoulders, propping me up on the counter.  He spread me open and tasted my wetness as if I were a delicacy.  His tongue was long and adept and he knew how to drive me to the edge.  He made me cum right there in his kitchen.

He walked me to his room, laying me down on his bed.  “I cannot wait to feel inside you.  I have wanted you from the time we met.”  He positioned himself on top of me, opening my legs with his hips.  Looking into my eyes he pushed himself inside.  He let out a long moan. Grasping my hips he pushed deeper, making me scream. We developed a hypnotic rhythm as our bodies fused together.  He took my hands in his and we stared in each others eyes as we climaxed.  It was intensely hot and I wanted more.

For weeks we carried on like that.  After work.  Before work.  At lunch.  The sex was hot and exciting.  In his youthful form, he was able to rebound in a matter of minutes.  So we fucked.  A lot.  We became consumed by our addiction to each other.  On the flip side, I was becoming more and more successful at work.  My new little tryst proved to be energizing for me.  I was number one in the company for three months in a row.  I attribute it to being happy and sated.  Even Greg noticed a change in me…but thankfully, he never figured out that Mike was the cause of it.  I was flourishing!  I made sure all of my work was done in a timely manner, so I could leave at 4:30 and have time to get my brains fucked out before going home.  

Mike didn’t fare so well. He was stuck in a perpetual love hangover.  He fell head over heels in love with me and didn’t focus on his work.  I tried to help him in any way I could. I even stopped seeing him for a while trying to rid him of the distraction, but he was too far gone.  The poor guy was lovesick.  Literally.  He gave up on his job and became obsessed with us.  I told him the rules from the beginning, no falling in love…but he allowed himself to fall hard.

Soon after, I was promoted to a regional position that required I travel all the time.  I later found out that Mike was let go. He wasn’t showing up for work. He was missing activities. He was a total mess.  He is the reason for the old adage…“don’t put your meat where you make your bread.” Some people cannot handle it.

About 7 years ago, I saw him at a workshop.  He landed a great job in social services, helping foster children…perfect for what he wanted.  He was engaged to one of his co-workers (imagine that) and he looked happy.  I was genuinely tickled to see him.  We hugged and reminisced for a few, and then went our separate ways.  I keep up with how he’s doing through a mutual friend, but we’ve not talked since.  I am glad he is doing well.

Looks like all that on-the-job-training served him well.  Bless his heart!   

hungry

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

 

 

Wonderland

elevator

My descent into the downward spiral of the rabbit hole was exhilarating.  I peeled off the mask I’d been wearing for seven years, finally recognizing my reflection in the looking glass.  It was me.  I had returned.  The darkness around me was a familiar place of refuge and I felt alive.

Greg continued his massage of my shoulders, slowly easing his hands towards my soft breasts.  He was gentle in his touch and I longed to kiss him again  Time was passing quickly and we couldn’t stay behind closed doors alone for much longer.  Someone was bound to notice and there would be talk.

Greg turned me around to face him.  “We should continue this later.  We don’t want to create any suspicion around here.”

I nodded in agreement.  He quietly unlocked the door and placed a chair under the vent he’d inspected.  “When you open the door, I will be on the chair pretending to diagnose your issue with the vent.  That should ward off any talk.”

He stood on the chair and as I moved towards the door. I noticed the bulge of his crisp khaki pants.  I paused as I walked by him, taking a moment to look up in his eyes seductively.  I casually opened the door and slid out of the office unnoticed by anyone.  He pretended to work with the vent for a few more minutes before leaving.

When I returned to my office, there was a note in my desk:

You name the time, and I will make time. Come see me in my office before you leave.  

Hmmm…Instructions.  I liked the tone of this note.  Around 4:50, I visited his office.  He was busy working on several projects, but welcomed me in.

“What are your plans for Friday night?’ he asked.

“I don’t really have any.  He is working nights and my son is staying over at a friend’s house.”

“Okay.  Could you stay out for a few hours?” he asked.

My face felt flushed.  It just dawned on me that I was about to dive in this pool.  I was about to plan this tryst with him.  I felt nervous at the thought of being intimate with someone new.  I’d brainwashed myself into monogamy and I began feel a slight moral dilemma.

“Is this too much, too soon Tess?” he asked.  I guess he could read my face.  He could see that I was struggling with making definite plans.

“No, it’s not.  I want this.  It’s not too soon…in fact it’s a bit late.  And yes, I can safely stay out until midnight”

He pondered his next comment.  “I am thinking we should meet at the Sheraton around 8:00.  I will get the room.  Just promise me this, if you change your mind, you will tell me and I will promise to do the same for you.”

I nodded in approval, “I don’t think I will back out, Greg. I don’t think Friday can get here fast enough for me.”

He grinned.  My LAWD the man was sexy.  It was only Tuesday.  How could I hold out until Friday?

The week moved on at its normal pace.  I was super-busy and so was he.  We would exchange niceties in the halls and spoke in morning meeting.  We both understood that we needed to WAIT for Friday.  We understood the intense heat between us and knew if we found ourselves alone for any amount of time that we would go too far.  That couldn’t happen at work.

Friday arrived and I felt like backing out.  I didn’t have a change of heart, but I was nervous about our encounter.  I somehow pushed through the day.  When the evening arrived, I took my time getting ready.  My son was with friends.  My husband at work.  And I had the house to myself.  I took a long, hot shower.  I made sure my skin was perfectly smooth.  I prepared myself as if I were going out on a first date.

I had just received a cell phone for work a few days prior.  Greg already had one and that’s how we communicated.  He called me around 7:30 to give me the room number.My heart jumped when the phone rang.  I knew it was him calling with the location.  His voice was deep and sexy, “Hello, Tess.  I am here.  The room is perfect, come on when you’re ready.  It’s room 719”

I did some last minute preparations and headed out. It took about 10 minutes to get to the hotel.  I arrived and the door to the room was ajar.  I knocked lightly as I opened it.  The lights were out and there were candles lit.  I looked down and noticed a trail of clothes on the floor.  Shoes. Socks. Pants. Shirt.  I followed the trail and saw him standing at the end.  He had on nothing but black boxers and that devilish smile.

I walked towards him and he pulled me close.  My face rested on his warm, toned chest.  He smelled divine. His skin was smooth and I rested my head on his heart as he stroked my hair. He pulled my face to face his.  His eyes smiled as he looked into mine. He planted a kiss on me that made me swoon.  I literally felt weak in the knees.

He pulled me close again, as he began removing my clothes.  Piece by piece.  He turned me around, with my back to him, as he unzipped my little black dress.  He carefully slid it over my head, leaving me there in my (matching) ivory and black lace bra and panties. He ran his hands over my back and carefully unfastened my bra.  He slowly pulled it away from my body as my breasts spilled out. He turned me to face him again as he looked at my body.  He kissed me as he guided me towards the crisp white bed.

“Lay down and get comfortable.” he instructed.  He sat next to me and massaged my body, circling my breasts, softly rubbing my legs, tickling my abdomen as he stroked it like a feather.  He kissed me as he touched the place between my legs.  I was still wearing my panties and he teased me by tracing the edges of the elastic with his fingertips.  I wanted him to rip them off and fuck me sore.  I wanted him to unleash what I’d held onto for seven years.  I wanted him badly.

He stood up and pulled my panties off.  They were moist from my arousal.  He dropped to his knees and buried his face in my thighs, exploring my slit with his tongue.  I whimpered and moaned in delight.  He slid a finger into my slippery place as he probed for the sweet spot.  Once he found it, I came immediately.  He stood up and I sat up, dropping to my knees on the floor, taking in all of his length in one movement.  He almost lost his balance as he felt for the bed under him.

I worshipped his ample cock.  I licked the shaft slowly, deliberately circling the head with my tongue before taking it deep.  I sucked softly and then aggressively, like the greedy slut I was.  I teased him by only taking in the tip and then taking it as far as it would go down my throat.  I don’t think he’d ever received anything like that.  He was so hard.  As much as I wanted to swallow his load, I also wanted to feel him deep within me.

I stood up and he pulled me on top of him.  His cock was slick with my saliva and it easily slid inside me.  I moved my body down onto his, feeling how he filled me.  I started to grind and buck, taking his cock deeper with each stroke.  I found myself going faster and faster, overcome with pleasure as we headed to orgasm.  We came together and I fell onto the bed beside him.  We both just lay there…in awe of what had just transpired.

“You okay, Tess?” he asked.  He was slightly out of breath.  I replied, “I am better than I have been in forever.”

He pulled me onto his chest and brushed the hair out of my face.  Looking at me, he said, “That was amazing.  I want more of you.  I want to have you as many times as I can tonight, you feel so good.”  I was speechless, as I was still recovering from the high.  But I found myself morphing back into the naughty girl from years past.

We took a candlelit bubble bath together and fucked again.  He took me from behind that time.  He filled every space inside me.  As he was about to unload, he pulled my shoulders back to edge in as far as he could.  He let out a primal growl as he filled me.  I loved it.  I wanted him rough.  I wanted him to use my body for his pleasure.  I wanted to give him something he didn’t get at home.  I wanted to be slut he needed me to be.

We carried on throughout the night.  Around midnight, we both got ready to leave.  He helped me put on my dress, but refused to let me put on my panties.  He said I should keep them off, as he found it sexy.  I was happy to oblige.  He walked me to the elevator and pushed the button for the penthouse.  I was confused.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Just taking a ride, that’s all.  Gives us a few more minutes together” And with that comment, he walked over to me, slipped his hand up my dress.  Pushing two fingers in my hole, he fingered me on the elevator for a couple of floors.  He slipped them out and put them in my mouth, running them around my lips.  I could taste my sex and his seed.  He then pinned me to the wall and kissed me.  “Now we have tasted each other together.  Until next time, baby.”  He kissed my cheek and walked off the elevator as it we had just reached the ground floor.  He walked to the left.  I walked out to the right.

And as I made my way to the car I thought about the evening and once again, I felt weak in the knees...

 

(photo credits, Pinterest)

The Rabbit Hole

alice

May 2002.

I was in a place of transition.  I’d just been recruited to work in a director’s position at a local retirement home.  The place had a horrible reputation, but the new ownership assembled a strong team of experienced managers tasked with turning it around.  I loved it there.  The owners worked day and night to make improvements to enhance the lives of the residents.  We all worked together to make a difference.

For the most part, I liked everyone I worked with.  The administrator was kind and focused.  The director of nursing was great at leading the clinical team.  The social worker and I immediately bonded over music and movies.  And then there was the director of environmental services.  I was very fond of him.  His name was Greg.

I met him the day of my interview.  He was walking out as I was walking into the building.  He smiled as he opened the door for me, “Come on in.  How may I help you?”  His smile was sexy and I recognized a certain look in his eye.  It’s the look that you share with others in your tribe.  It’s a glimmer that lets you know that they “see” you also.  The real you.

I shyly smiled as I walked by him.  “I am here to see Brian.” I said.

“You must be the one he told us about!  Are you here for the interview?” he asked.

I nodded.  Greg smiled as he walked me towards Brian’s office.  He knocked on the door as he opened it and said, “She’s here.  The one you were telling us about.” Brian opened the door and welcomed me in.  Greg shook my hand and said, “It was really nice meeting you.  I hope to see you around here soon.” I sat down with Brian and sailed through the interview.  He immediately made me an offer and I accepted, on the spot.

From the beginning, there was tension between Greg and I.  It was an unspoken air of sensuality that existed when were in each other’s presence.  Although we didn’t have time to talk often, the conversations we did have were charged with an underlying tone of mutual attraction.  It was in the eyes.  When our eyes met, there was a certain electricity that sparked from the connection.  We both dismissed it.  After all, he was married.  I was married.  And neither of us wanted to venture too far off of our ascribed paths.

As the days went on we became closer, often talking about our kids and our lives at home.  We had sons the same age, who attended the same elementary school.  We worked hard at keeping our interactions professional but there was still tension in the air.  Occasionally, we would forget our obligations and shamelessly flirt with each other.  Then one of us would reel it back in.  We would take a couple of days off from chatting, to cool down, but eventually we would end up in the same place.

One sultry afternoon in May, I called him to my office.  The air conditioner vents were blowing hot air and it was quickly becoming uncomfortable.  He stood on a chair and checked the vents.  I looked at his form as he stood there, inches away from me.  I fantasized about facing him, and slowly unzipping his khaki pants as I looked in eyes; pleasuring him right there in my office.  I was lost in my thoughts when he said, “It’s electrical.”

I was caught off guard.  “What?” I stammered.

“The issue.  I think something may have tripped the breaker because, there’s no air coming out at all now. It’s happened in a couple of the other offices.  We’ve already called in a HVAC company to fix it.”

“Thank you.  It’s already too hot in here for me.  What should I do?”

He grinned.  “I have a fan tucked away in my office for such occasions.  I will go get it for you. Do you need anything else?”

At that moment, our eyes connected and there was no going back.  It was happening.  I could feel it.  He could feel it.  I stared deeply into his brown eyes and said, “Yes.  I do. But it can wait until you bring the fan.”

He held my gaze for several seconds before walking back to his office.  I felt a tinge of nervousness deep in my belly.  I looked around my office and began visualizing where this would take place.  Over the desk?  On the table?  On the floor?  Does the lock work on my door?  Do my bra and panties match today?  Oh shit, did I shave my legs this morning? As my mind raced, the door opened as he walked in with the fan.

He stared into my eyes and said, “Where do you want it?” He meant the fan, but I knew there was another meaning to his question.  He knew I knew it.  I nervously sat behind my desk and said, “how about on the table?”

He plugged in the fan and turned it towards me.  He sat in the chair across from my desk and said, “What else did you need, Tess?”

Oh shit, I thought.  Not prepared.  At a loss for words.  What to do?  I’d not stepped off the path of fidelity in my sexless marriage for almost seven years.  No man, other than my cruel bastard of a husband, had touched my skin in seven years.  I had not felt like a woman in seven years. I was so hungry for Greg’s touch, but I was bound to another.  As I struggled with an answer, Greg stood up and walked towards the door.

“Don’t go.” I said.

“I’m not going anywhere.  I am just locking the door. So tell me, what is it you want from me, Tess?” his tone was direct.

Keep in mind that for seven years I’d been in a relationship where I could not be my wanton self.  I worked hard to bury that part of me in exchange for the perceived comforts of the Stepford life I was encouraged to live. Plain and simple, I’d all but lost my game.  The old me would have spun a yarn, filled with innuendo that would have already had us in the throes of passion.  The new me didn’t know how to navigate this part of the journey. But slowly, I found the words.

“In my last job, the director of environmental services, was known to give a great massage.  My co-workers would call him to their offices on stressful days and he would work all of the knots out of their shoulders.  I never got one, but he said those were tricks of the trade and that all environmental directors are good with their hands. Is that true, Greg?  Are you good with your hands?” I coyly asked.

He walked towards my desk, stepping behind me, he moved the hair from my shoulders as leaned down and whispered, “I don’t know.  I will let you be the judge of that.”

He gently stroked the back of my neck as he moved his hands towards my shoulders.  I’d not been touched there for so long that I sighed out loud.  He began kneading my tense muscles and I relaxed into the massage.  “How is that?” he asked

“It’s wonderful.” I said.  My voice was breathy and faint.

He moved his hands up toward my neck, gently caressing my throat as he moved them back to my shoulders.  I was lost in his touch.  I could tell he wanted to feel my breasts, but he kept his hands at a respectable distance.

“What are my limits, Tess?  How much can I do?” he asked.

I stood and turned to face him, looking him in the eye.

My voice was steady and sure, “You have no limits with me, Greg”

He grabbed the back of my head and pulled me towards his mouth, passionately kissing me he said, “I want you.  I’ve wanted you since I met you.”

“I know.  I’ve wanted you too.  But I’ve been trying to do what’s right.”  I said

He nodded. “I know.  I don’t want anyone to get hurt, but I want you, Tess.  I fantasize about us all the time.  I don’t care if it’s only once.  I just want you.”

And that was the day I chose the red pill.  I swallowed it whole without persuasion.  I swallowed it whole on my own accord.  I knew what I was doing.

That was the day I ventured down the rabbit hole.

(To be continued…)

red pill