by Selena Kitt
“Catherine, I have no issues at all with you. If you want to entrap your boss and then proceed to sleep with the next in line, that’s entirely your business.”
I glare at her and she responds in kind. How dare she.
“Richard was a filthy pervert and I’m not the only one he tried to victimise. If you can’t deal with reality, that’s not my fault,” I hiss at her while her defiant stare seems etched into her face permanently.
“And for the record, John and I were an item before his promotion. Neither of us knew that was going to happen.”
She turns and faces the door, no change in her expression, save the glaze that has washed over her eye. Is she crying? Oh what do I care, she’s still a bitch and I’m furious.
The door opens and we both waste no time getting out of the confined space and into the fresh, icy outdoors, only to stomp off in opposing directions.
At home I quickly gather some items of clothing, toothbrush and other essentials and stuff them into a backpack together with the Lord of the Rings blu-ray discs; we had made a plan after all. Plenty of food in the fridge, which is also going into the bag to save on cooking time later.
Before leaving, I quickly change into something a bit more comfortable and more suited to the walk over to his place; jeans and knitted jumper. Only when I am nearly out the door, do I notice the envelope on my doormat and leave it on the breakfast counter in the kitchenette. I’ll look at it whenever I return, it’s probably a stupid bill anyway.
After the short walk through the freezing conditions, I end up at his door, wind-blown and numb. He opens up and takes my things upon letting me inside. I feel like I’m at home away from home, my earlier anger at Sharon all but forgotten.
“Hi…”
“You look half frozen,” he remarks, brushing a few locks of frizzy and damp hair behind my ear.
This simple gesture makes me feel all warm inside, even if the tip of my nose is still painfully cold. I proceed to take off my gloves and muffler, and then slipping my heavy coat off my shoulders.
His place is warm, as I remember it. And that scent, his scent. He’s wearing the same black hoody again.
I love him as much in casuals as I do fully suited and booted. Though casuals somehow look more… cuddly.
He observes my every move as I take the food containers out of my bag and carry them to the kitchen.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, looking around to find him appreciating my well fitting jeans from behind.
“Starving,” he says.
Of course he is. Facing the counter once more, I smile to myself while heating the rice and chicken curry I brought. Meanwhile he gathers plates and cutlery.
It turns out that actually we’re both famished and we finish our meal in record time. Attentive as always, he makes it a point to comment on how lovely it is.
By 7 we’re on the sofa together, finding something to watch on TV. Like a normal couple, just comfortable together without the need for pretense or forced conversation. Like we inherently understand that the occasional silence isn’t awkward, but content.
“Oh I forgot to tell you,” I start, “I got the job, I’ll start next week once the paperwork is all done.”
John pulls me against him and kisses the side of my head.
“Congratulations! I’m really sorry about earlier…”
“Never mind. If the whole thing with Dick taught me anything, it’s to be more careful about who to work for. First impressions are good.”
“Glad to hear it.” He adjusts himself to get more comfortable and I wrap my arm around him.
Looks like he’s no longer worried about Mark which is just as well; he has no reason to be. I can’t even imagine looking at another man that way.
He picks up the remote to change the channel, but I’ve lost interest. Observing him instead, I note a slight stubble showing after presumably not getting the chance to shave this morning. I quite like the look.
He frowns and smacks the back of the remote which apparently isn’t working quite how it should. Not sure why but it amuses me, so I continue to watch him.
It takes him quite some time, before he realises that I’ve been staring.
“What?” He raises his eyebrows and smiles in a wonderfully disarming fashion.
“Just enjoying the view.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
I want to kiss him, to show him how important he is to me and that’s the only way I know how. He seems to want the same, because he switches the TV off and takes my hands. Pulling me towards him as he leans back, I’m treated to a tight embrace and a gentle kiss on my forehead.
The next kiss, on the tip of my nose makes me chuckle. He can be so sweet. I nuzzle against the side of his face, my skin getting tickled by the bit of stubble I noticed earlier.
His hands find my ass, while my lips seek out his. It’s unusual, how a kiss can set me alight like this. With hardly any effort or warning, I’m flushed and breathless. I want him with every fibre in my body. His eyes sparkle, he’s equally excited.
I interrupt him mid-kiss and get up. It’s time to carry out certain plans I’ve been cooking up. He looks surprised and attempts to follow me but I stop him.
“I need you to give me 5 minutes before coming into the bedroom.”
He nods, the earlier glint in his eyes reappearing straightaway.
“And there’s something else I need you to do for me.”
“Anything.” he says.
His voice washes over me, making me giddy, but I try not to let on.
“Before you open the door, be undressed.”
He opens his lips but I interrupt him yet again before he gets the chance to speak.
“Completely.”
With that carefully articulated word, I leave him and rush into the bedroom. I may have packed in a hurry, but I still added a little something interesting from my underwear drawer. Something that is better appreciated with company and hence hasn’t been of use to me in ages.
It’s a bit tricky, putting on the corset and tightening it by myself but I manage somehow. The look is quickly completed with a matching wine red and black thong and black, lace-topped stockings.
I take a moment to check myself in the mirror. The under-bust cincher perfectly accentuates what I believe to be my best feature; a slim waist with sufficiently feminine curves both above and below. The stockings aid to make my hips look wider, in a good way.
Hair should definitely be left open. And the last finishing touch required is a quick dab of red lip gloss. Candles would be nice, if a bit over the top. For now we’ll have to make do with the indirect light of the bedside lamp reflecting back off the ceiling.
Guess I’m probably over thinking this.
I climb onto the bed and lean against a couple of pillows to wait for him for what turns out to be not very long at all. My heart starts to pound when I hear the footsteps outside. I hope he’ll like me all dressed up, then again, why wouldn’t he?
He knocks once and after I call for him to enter, the door opens. His reluctance, demonstrated by how slight the crack of the door is, both endears and teases. I can’t wait to admire him as I expect he will do me.
Leaning up onto my elbows, I am making use of how the slightest angling of my head causes locks of my hair to cascade off my chest to reveal my perky breasts. The corset really does make them look bigger, even if they don’t need any help.
This spectacle isn’t lost on him either as his lingering gaze reveals.
“Come closer.”
He pushes the door open further and I’m treated to a much better view of him. I watch him breathe deeply while he lets his eyes wander over my outfit, or perhaps more accurately the bits not left to the imagination. I shift my legs to the side, allowing me to sit upright in a fairly awkward and constricted manner.
Tied in tightly or not, the corset doesn’t bother me, it actually makes me feel so very sexy, the way it keeps my posture artificially straightened and my tummy pushed in. I’ve alway
s liked a bit of pressure there.
He takes a few steps towards me. His posture betrays how uncomfortable he is, but the longer he looks at me, the more changes I see in him.
“You look spectacular,” he says, “I could keep looking at you for hours.”
“As could I.” I reach out for him, waiting for his hand to come within reach.
“OK, admittedly I’d have a tough time sticking to just looking…”
He’s growing visibly harder and I can feel my own breathing turn erratic, making me faint. I run my fingers over his before tugging at them gently.
“I want you,” I breathe.
He gives me a look like he’s just about ready to eat me and I fall back into the pillows again. Watching him get onto the mattress on his knees beside me, his erection is blatantly obvious and just begging to be touched. Of course I can’t keep my hands off, not off his cock nor the rest of his body.
“I love this…” I say while exploring him with my fingertips, slowly. Savouring each moment.
The curve of his belly which I know to feel exquisite against me and his thighs with their soft covering of straight brown hair, which only grows denser just at the knee and below.
“And this…” I trace the few visible veins on his cock with my fingertip and watch how his expressions change under my touch. Tension fades, he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath.
“Wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”
His eyelids snap open again revealing pure, animal lust. But instead of giving him quick release, I continue to tease, alternating between fingertips and nails. Slowly and lightly scraping and tickling.
VII.
She’s doing it again, teasing me. Coaxing my wild side out of me until I revert to instinct. And she’s damn good at it too.
Spectacular is one word for the image in front of me. It was the censored option I chose because everything else that came to mind seemed too crude to say out loud.
She watches me intently, no doubt taking in every breath, every uncontrollable shiver and twitch and sigh caused by her soft caresses. The tension inside me builds to near unbearable levels and on the one hand I want to give in, but at the same time I’m enjoying her soft torture.
On her back, she spreads her thighs ever so slightly. Almost as if she didn’t mean for me to notice, still it takes my breath away. Her eyes betray her intentions, it’s all part of the game.
Following her example, I try to turn the situation around. Running my fingers up and down her inner thighs until a little moan escapes her. She adjusts herself a bit in an attempt to guide my fingers upwards.
I have other ideas though. Bending down, I gently blow on her nipples but take care not to let my lips touch. Goose bumps appear.
Her hair is fanned out over the pillows and her lips slightly open. Red and shiny, I like that. And the outfit… there would be no better advertisement for it than this. Not that I could bear the thought of anyone else seeing her so exposed.
Her beauty makes me want to scream. A lot of things come to mind, most prominently ‘Why me?’. Will I ever get used to the idea? I probably shouldn’t, because I don’t want to lose how special it feels.
Short breaths cause her chest to rise and fall in rapid succession. I get down on all fours above her, my knees between her now widely spread thighs. She cranes her neck upwards, nibbling on my bottom lip. It’s a competition, she wants me to take her, yet I want her to say the words first. We’ll both win either way.
Her fingers curl up, fingernails run past my sides. Ticklish but oh so good; I forget to breathe and focus on the persistent throbbing down below. When I open my eyes again I see her looking down, admiring me as I hover just far enough above her. I should feel awkward about this, I probably would if she didn’t look so damn pleased.
Unusual, being the object of desire. She runs her fingers through my chest hair and downwards. This time she’s the one holding her breath and a strange sensation overcomes me. Pride, yes that’s what this is.
When her hand travels further south and closes around my cock I’ve had enough. I give in. She’s in charge.
I straighten myself and give her thighs a firm squeeze. The lace of the stockings feels rough to the touch, in stark contrast with the silkiness of her skin just above. When I start pulling down her panties, she flashes her perfect teeth at me with a smile. She knows she’s won.
Immaculately shaved like I remember. I let my fingers explore her, hot and soaking wet. They say you should take your time with foreplay. Fuck that. She moans and arches up, this tells me that she also doesn’t want any more delays. Just as well.
I lower myself while she spreads and guides me. Is that it? She nods and I push into her, filling her. Both hands are on my arms now, moving upwards towards my shoulders and pulling me down. She moans in my ear as I try to adjust myself and rest on both elbows.
Any concerns that I might be making her uncomfortable are quickly forgotten while she clings onto me tightly and raises her hips to meet me. Overcome by a haze of lust, I start to find my rhythm. Her small body underneath me wriggles and moves with me with a surprising strength considering I must be weighing her down.
She moans with every stroke, her hands on my ass encourage me to be rougher.
“Oh god yes! This feels so good…”
Her voice makes me shiver, or perhaps it’s the words she speaks which do it. I lean to one side, allowing my other arm to reach up and grab a fistful of hair. Her eyes open wide, initial surprise fades and is replaced by defiance. She lifts her head, struggling against my grasp to find my lips.
We fuse together at both ends, kissing and fucking. Licking, biting and scratching (the latter is mainly her). Just when I start to feel tired, all her muscles seem to clench together and her moans become louder, rejuvenating me.
I’m about ready to explode, watching her face, so beautiful. Little pearls of sweat have formed on her forehead, her hair is getting damp. She screams and digs her fingers into my ass cheeks, drawing me into her as deeply as possible. I find a final burst of energy and plough into her, hard.
Although I can feel her grip on me soften, her moans quieten down, the aftershocks of her release are still evident on her face. I did this, I made her cum again with no direction or guidance needed. Who would’ve thought…
Before I know it, I’m turning rigid, quivering and twitching all at once. I see a glimpse of her satisfied smile before my eyes shut. Her lips are on me, as are her hands while she rhythmically grinds up against me. I’m helplessly frozen, drowning in pleasure and super-aware of my cock pulsating, filling her with seed.
It still blows my mind that she wants this as much as I do.
Not sure how long after, because time seems to have stood still, I try to lift myself but she’s still clinging to me.
“Don’t go,” she whispers.
You always hear about how women love to cuddle after, but most men don’t really. Guess I’m not most men.
She looks at me with big pleading eyes and I realise this is where I’m meant to be for now. In and on her, tasting her sweet lips a bit longer and enjoying her hands gently massaging my back. We’re both a bit sticky, but that’s fine; we are one.
I feel myself relaxing uncontrollably and rest my head on her chest for a change. It’s quite lovely, no wonder she likes to do this to me. Her hands travel upwards, fingers running through my hair.
“Cath, mind if I ask you something?”
“Sure go ahead,” she responds.
“Is it always like this, so intense? Being together, the sex.”
She continues to stroke my hair as she thinks.
“Not in my experience… Sure it’s exciting being with someone when everything’s new, but this, us, goes way beyond that.” I can hear her heartbeat speed up underneath my ear. Am I making her nervous?
“Well it does for me anyway,” she adds.
I have to agree. This certainly blows away any expectations I might have had.
> She tries to stretch and I get the hint to give her some room by rolling onto my back. Suddenly noticing tiredness carried over from the trip catch up with me, I feel neither the will nor need to cover up. She does get up for a short while though, only to return naked and equally willing to just relax.
Gladly, I pull her close again, resting my hand comfortably between her breasts and enjoying the cool, smooth skin of her back pressed up against me. I wouldn’t mind falling asleep like this every night for the rest of my life.
After asking about her night out yesterday, I notice myself drifting off as she continues to answer.
VIII.
When I get up, John is still sleeping. He looks adorable, messy hair, face cuddled into the plush pillow and I don’t have the heart to disturb him. I decide instead that I should go out and pick up milk and other essentials which will be lacking in his kitchen after his short trip.
His bag is on the table, the front zip open and a large conference pad visible. I should leave a note in case he wakes up.
I take out the pad and flip through pages of text, densely written, trying to find the first blank space. But these are not notes, it’s more like an essay and a very long one too. Looking a little more closely I can see my name scribbled multiple times, throughout the text. I flip back to the beginning.
‘6th December 2012
Dear Cath,
Before I left for this trip, I didn’t think it was possible how much I would miss you. I could see it in your face on Tuesday night that you didn’t want me to go either, even if you didn’t say it.
I’m sorry if none of this makes a lot of sense, I might be a bit tipsy. I tried my best not to overdo it because I know you worry. Although, it seems that I did, I’m not quite sure how many I’ve had. That’s never a good sign is it.
I’m at the hotel now, can’t get to sleep, I miss you, Cath. And I wish you were here, because I need to tell you something.
On the plane over here, I closed my eyes and all I could think about was you, I imagined you were sitting next to me. At the trade show, I imagined you’d be here in my room, waiting for me. But of course that was all just pretend. I do hope you’re waiting for me back home.
