Monday evening with S
February 3rd, 2012 / Author: EdithMy first meeting with S for months (in fact my first “meeting” with anyone for months!!!). We’d talked on the phone of course, both before and after Christmas and the New Year. With everything that had been going on in my life, I just hadn’t had the time, or the motivation actually, to arrange any get-togethers.
J had been cajoling me for weeks that I should agree to “one or the others requests” for meeting-up (D had been calling constantly as well!). J kept telling me it would get me “back to normal”, and that the different excitement would do me good. So when S had asked again on Friday, I agreed to meet after work on Monday evening at our, now not-so-regular, Italian.
All through the day at work I’d been fluctuating between being nervous . . . and being excited. And in the taxi on my way, I was still feeling the same way. Thankfully S texted whilst my cab was still only half-way there, that he was already there, and waiting “with wine chilling”. I was even more thankful when I walked through the door . . . he was the only one there . . . every other table was empty! He stood and we exchanged kisses, long and passionate kisses, so much so that our owner friend who’d emerged to greet me had to wait for me to extricate myself so that he could take my coat. We all laughed and exchanged “long time no-see” greetings before he got me seated and said he would “let your husband pour you your wine, and we’ll give you some time to look at the menu. It’s new!” S and I giggled our “husband and wife hello’s” and then the fact that although the menu was definitely a new design, the dishes seemed much the same as always.
It was so good to sit and talk again face to face. My nervousness was completely forgotten as we chatted and giggled and whispered our way through the meal. (Whispering because we remained the only customers for what seemed like almost a full hour . . . and in fact only one other couple came in the whole time whilst we were there). As we walked hand-in-hand to the car, S told me the owner had told him it had been so quiet since the New Year that he was actually worried he may have to close down.
As S started the car I suddenly realised he hadn’t actually asked me if I’d “wanted to go anywhere”. I smacked him on the leg when he replied that “I just assumed you would. I’ve booked our usual hotel”. His cheekiness, and his squeezing of my leg, had me giggling as I tried to continue my pretence of annoyance. When he pulled into the hotel car park minutes later he turned and pulled me across to him, squeezing and kissing me tightly again before pulling away, “I can take you home if you want to, it’s still not too late to say no”.
I went and sat discretely by the lift as normal, whilst he checked-in. He was kissing me again as we stood alone in the lift. I managed to push him gently away. “Wait, wait” I told him, but I was feeling now those tingles of excitement again, the naughtiness and the guilt mixing together and making my tummy tighten like it always did at moments like these with S.
Once inside the door his embracing was passionate and uncontested now. Him pulling at my coat, me pushing his jacket off his shoulders. We were standing against the wall, outside the bathroom door. We’d not even looked inside, or at the rest of the room. We knew the layout here off-by-heart now. His hands were unbuttoning and unzipping my dress at the back. I told him my scarf would strangle me if he didn’t let me unwrap it first. We kissed and shuffled our way to the bed, coats and jackets dropped to the floor and me kicking my shoes off as he lay me backwards. He rolled down onto the bed with me, lifting me up on each side to slide my dress down at the front and help me pull each arm out. He was kissing my neck and unclipped my bra . . .
Suddenly we heard a loud knocking at the door!!! He’d ordered a bottle of wine from room service, and in the passion of our entrance, had completely forgotten! He buttoned his shirt back up whilst I quickly tip-toed behind him and into the bathroom closing the door behind me. He opened the door a minute later and we burst out laughing as he held the bottle in front of me. “I thought you might be needing this”. I nodded, but said “you pour then, but I really do need a shower as well”.
He returned with glasses as I ran the water trying to adjust the pressure and the temperature. “They’re never the same. You’d think they’d be the same in every room!” I cursed, teasingly trying to ignore him stroking my back and sliding his hand into my knickers and squeezing my bum cheeks. I took a sip and then handed him back the glass whilst I slipped my knickers down over my hips and stepped out of them. “God I’ve missed seeing that” he gasped. “Have you waxed?” I stepped forward and kissed him before turning away and stepping into the shower, “yes on Saturday!” I giggled in reply, “J told me I needed to if I was going to be seeing you tonight”. I suddenly noticed a slight change in his voice, even from behind the shower curtain. Although we’d talked about the children, and everything else that had happened in the family since Christmas, neither of us had actually mentioned J by name. “Are you going to come in” I blurted out, quickly trying to change the subject. “Well there’s not enough room is there” he answered. I stepped out onto the mat in front of him “well I’ve finished anyway, and you’ve not even undressed yet”.
I wrapped myself in a towel and sat on the toilet seat as he undressed and stepped in. The floor was quite wet now where we’d had the shower curtain open. I stood up to push the bath mat round with my feet to try and soak up some of the water off the floor tiles. I opened the curtain a bit and slid my hand in, “do you need soaping?” I asked him, “I think you do, don’t you”. He wasn’t hard, but it felt nice, and squeezing his willy there made me feel better again . . . and it was soon, obviously, making him feel better as well!
We took our glasses back to the bed. He’d finished drying and sat back against the pillow with his towel not really disguising his lump there. I finished my glass and got up to re-fill it from the desk where he’d put the bottle, I unwrapped my towel and hung it over the back of the chair . . . then turned around to walk back to the bed. “You’ve gone quiet” I said as I sat down on the edge. He reached over with both hands cupping over my nipples. “I’ve missed you” he said. I was already gasping at the feel of his hands scraping and squeezing over me. “Me too” I whispered.
I leant forward whilst he continued squeezing me . . . squeezing and pinching at each of my nipples with each hand. I stretched away to put my glass on the bedside table. As he pulled me back I tugged at his towel to release him. I leant forward and took him into my mouth. We re-adjusted our positions, him still squeezing at my boobs whilst I knelt more onto the bed while I continued sliding my mouth up and down on him. He felt wonderful and hard, I slid my hand around his base and tried to move his legs apart with the other hand so I could play with his balls. His breathing was heavy and he was gasping out how much he’d “missed this”.
Then he took me by my shoulders and just rolled me over his legs and onto my back, kneeling himself over me and pushing my legs apart. His gasp was muffled . . . and “wet” . . . as his tongue pushed into me almost straight away. My gasp was loud and gurgled “oh fuck, fucking hell” as I felt his fingers pushing in under his tongue. He sat up for a minute to pull a cushion down from the head of the bed. I lifted my hips to let him slide it under me . . . and then gasped and groaned again as his tongue resumed it’s licking and probing, and his fingers resumed their stroking. I knew I was squeezing my own breasts now, and groaning loudly again, as I lifted my hips up even further off the pillow to let his tongue slide all the way down . . . and all the way round. He lifted up to re-position himself and he twisted his right hand round in the other direction. I felt his finger pushing and sliding into my bottom, and then his thumb gripping into my pussy. He reached his left hand over and started just gently flicking it over my button at first, then quickening it’s stroking as he continued his pushing, and gripping, with his other hand. I knew I was crying out, and thrusting my hips forward with quick pushes and pulls as I felt his finger right up inside. “Fucking, fucking . . . it’s too soon”, I was gasping out, but I couldn’t stop. I shuddered and shook and lifted my hands up, stretching my fingers out to tell him to stop. He pulled out and I rolled over onto my side, shaking and cursing in whispers, “no, no . . . too quick”.
We lay for ages. He didn’t say anything. Not that I can remember anyway. I just felt him squeezing up behind me and cuddling me tightly into him, I could feel his knees locking in under my bottom as we curled up together. Eventually I felt my senses returning. “I’m cold now” I told him. Then cursing at him as he had to lift my legs and pull me over and then roll me back to slide the bedcovers back and lift them up and over us to cover us up. Eventually he asked “Good?”. I giggled, “well, what do you think!”.
His hands slowly started sliding again. Up to my nipples and squeezing at me gently. I turned over to face him and felt his erection scraping against my thigh as I turned. I reached down between us and squeezed him, he was still hard . . . and he felt warm in the palm of my hand as I squeezed and stroked. I continued rubbing him with my hand as we kissed and squirmed against one another. I pushed his fingers away from my nipples, “tender” I told him, and slid down over his chest. I slid my mouth down over his willy, pushing against his chest with one hand and squeezing around his base again with the other. I began sucking and sliding up and down with exaggerated pumps and sucks now. I was loving the feeling of it inside my mouth, even when he lifted his hips against my mouth as I sucked down on him and I felt it push right up into the back of my throat. I gurgled and pulled away for a moment, “gently”, I told him. “I’ve missed this, let me do it right”. His gasping response told me I was doing it “right”. He pushed his legs out straighter and I knelt over them, swivelling around so that I was kneeling directly between his legs now. He was pulling at my shoulders to try and lift me up, but I was twisting and shrugging his hands away . . . and sliding my mouth faster and faster. He asked me to lift up, that he wanted me to sit on him, but I shook my head vigorously and pulled away just long enough to grunt out “I don’t want, I want this”, before engulfing my mouth over him again. I felt him relaxing and giving in to my shrugs and twisting shoulders. I felt his legs stiffening out under my elbows, and then him starting to breath quicker and heavier. His hips were shuddering against me now and I could tell he was coming. I was proud of myself for sensing his timing just right . . . I lifted my mouth away just as he spurted the first jets. I cupped my hand over his head and pushed it back towards his belly as he continued to shoot little bursts and he groaned and twisted under my fingers. I was squeezing him gently still, letting the dribble run out between my fingers. I smeared it over his tummy with my other hand, and then when I’d sensed that he’d stopped, I leant forward to swallow him into my mouth again. He gasped out with that wonderful throaty groan when I can tell he’s really letting himself go.
We cuddled down beside one another again. I pulled the sheets over us and snuggled in between his arms, kissing him on his shoulders as he squeezed and pulled me into him.
This time we dozed off. I’d forgotten to set the alarm on my phone “see, out of practice” I said as we scrambled around in our first waking moments, trying to find a clock or one of our phones. He’d put his phone down on the floor next to the bed. “It’s ok, only 11.30” he said, before turning back to me. We kissed and stroked again . . . but stirring and awakening from my dozing was also a bit like awakening and stirring from “my indulgence” . . . I knew I couldn’t get my mood back again. And I think he felt a bit the same way. We lay for another 20 minutes, just talking actually . . . telling each other how wonderful it had been, him saying how much he’d missed me and me thanking him for being so patient and understanding.
Eventually we lifted ourselves up and out of bed, almost by mutual consent, without even one of us saying “it’s time we should be going” or “please take me home”.
We parked just after the corner of my road, a dozen or so houses up from my gate. S turned the lights and engine off . . . we sat talking still, for another ten minutes or so, before I began feeling the cold and telling him “I will call you in the morning”. We kissed our goodbyes, as passionately as we’d kissed our hellos in the restaurant, but quicker and more furtively, lest a neighbour should be passing by from a late night out, or midnight run.
J was waiting on the sofa and reaching me out a glass of wine. “Well” he asked. I shrugged off my coat . . . and, instead of accepting the glass straight away, lifted my dress “Well !!! ” I said back. He knelt down on the floor, leaning forward into me as I took the glass from him. “God, no knickers! Just like old times” he mumbled . . .
