We may not be having an affair, but I would not want to add fuel to any differences you are having.
I notice while we speak, that your body language is open, inviting even, and, while your mind and words are holding me off, your body has other intentions. Your hands are expressive and you sit back, legs uncrossed, showing me the length of your body, unhindered and unprotected. I notice these things, but listen instead to what you are telling me. It was a nice fantasy and that brief time in my office when we almost acted it out was very exciting, but practicalities and commitments overtake circumstances. You are telling me, not in so many words, that it will not happen.
The opportunity was for me, thrilling, confusing and did something for my aging ego. The fact that a beautiful woman, such as you are, should take a fancy to my old person, does more for me than I can explain. I have always been a sexual man, but had put sex to one side over the last few years as something younger people did and not the old fogey sitting opposite you.
I am excepting of your decision, but at the same time, feel as if I missed an opportunity. Privately, I am blaming myself, thinking that coming on so strong in the office, was a blunder, clumsy on my part and, had I not been so eager, may still be alive. It surprises me that I should have been quite so inept. I never have been before.
For a few weeks, our contact is sporadic and only in the professional capacities of our respective positions. I do find though, that my treatment of you is bordering on the cruel. As if I have lost a friend and gained an enemy. Fortunately, I realise what I am doing and make a conscious effort to being the same guy I have always been with you. Now that I have realised my stupidity and vengefulness, we are able to relax around each other and are friends again. Hell! We even share jokes and manage to laugh.
My annual leave arrived. Two weeks in Wales, visiting historic places, castles and riding steam railways. It is a time to relax and enjoy the company of my wife. We have different interests, but have shared a life-time together. The weather is hit and miss, but on the whole, I have enjoyed the time away. It has given me time to reflect on the last few weeks.
I am fairly certain that I blew it with you by my own rashness. Had I played it cooler, perhaps things would have been different. Perhaps if I had been a little more circumspect, it would have been you making the running. Who knows? But I chalk it up to experience and think that it will remain in my memory as an opportunity missed, but would doubtless have had a disastrous outcome. My time away also allows me to worry about the news I was given before I went. The organisation is going through something of a restructure. I had a feeling that my neck was on the block as a possible casualty. It was a bombshell to find that I was actually being promoted and would be adding the Computer Support Unit to my already far reaching remits. In recognition for the increase of responsibility, my plan to cut back on working time was accepted, but I would not lose any salary entitlement or downgrade of annual leave. Wow! My worry was that the teams I am inheriting will be obstructive; their loyalty to a long term manager is likely to be quite a hurdle to overcome.
You are on my mind all the time I am away. Even though I know we will not be getting together, you have made that plain. I still cannot eradicate the thought that it is something I want, badly. It is a selfish thought and even while wanting it, I am berating myself for the fool I am being. Slowly, bit by bit, I am convincing myself that it should not happen. I mean… what possible good to come out of it, other than sexual pleasure? By the end of the holiday, I am resigned and accepting of how it needs to be.
Weeks have gone by now and I have adopted my new, elevated position. The expected objection and obstruction has been over-come. The teams have eventually realised that, it has been at the demise of their respective managers, the show goes on and the projects they have devoted time to, will continue to completion. The hardest obstacle for my new charges is the uncertainty of the future. Having to save one point two million pounds is no small feat; much of what we have done and provided over the history of the organisation will have to change to more popular courses. It means some radical changes and losses of long term staff.
My interaction with you has been cool since my return from holiday. Short conversations have been the only contact, passing of documents and a smile, but nothing more. I am comfortable with the situation, although I take the occasional look at your body and wish I could get very much closer to your skin. You look fantastic and the news that you are to act as interpreter to a new link with a Russian speaking school from Kazakhstan is wonderful. It secures your future in the organisation and I am pleased for you.
The shake- up of the Senior Manager Team has caused quite a lot of upheaval and no small amount of disruption. The strategic aims of the organisation have shifted and perhaps, the long game has become a little lost in the fall-out.
The board of Governors announce that we are all to attend a Manager’s Conference weekend at the ‘Grove’ in Hertfordshire. A retreat and function centre. The aim is to collectively decide how the College will go forward and to reset the strategic aims for the future. It is time to get on the bus and share the future, or get off now and find another cause to follow, in another place.
I arrive early to take advantage of the golf course and a complimentary round.
The first round of talks and motivational speaker is to take place the next morning. I have attended a similar week end some eight years before so knew what to expect. I didn’t feel like getting slaughtered in the bar with my peers, so showered and went to bed early. Tomorrow will be arduous in the least.
My bedside telephone rings and a one eyed look at the clock let me know it is eleven thirty. I had been asleep, happily dreaming, probably. I pick it up to hear a momentary pause and then the burr of an unconnected phone. I growl at the interruption of my sleep and snuggle down under the duvet to try and return to whatever I had been dreaming of.
A few minutes later, I hear a soft knock on my door. My eyes open and I wait to see if it was imagination. The knock comes again, a little more insistent this time. I throw back the bed covers and grab a towelling robe from the back of the bathroom door. I have just knotted the belt when the knock comes again.
There you are, standing on the threshold to my room, dressed in jeans and a shirt, barefooted and carrying a large sheaf of papers. I say your name as a question, what are you doing knocking on my door at this time of night?
You are unsure of how these events go. As P.A. you will be providing the back up; setting the papers for the day’s topics, taking notes and so on. You are nervous you tell me and needed some reassurance. Would I go through the itinerary with you as your most trusted friend? I ask you to come in and I make a cup of tea while you spread your papers all over the bed.
It was quickly obvious that you had everything in order. We ran through the agenda and found that all the back papers are in order. A pretty slick job and I tell you that you should not be so unsure of your abilities when you rarely make mistakes.
I am thinking that, perhaps you had an ulterior motive for knocking my door, That it isn’t entirely about getting everything in order for the next day’s event. But, keep it to myself and wait to see how things pan out.
You ask if I have anything to drink. The mini bar doesn’t have a great selection, a single malt whisky, some red wine a miniature bottle of Hennessey brandy and a few mixers. You settle on a brandy and swill it in the glass, like a connoisseur, sniffing the aroma before taking a sip. You put the glass down and without saying anything, begin to undo the buttons of your shirt, starting from the top.
I am telling you that this is not a good idea. Privately, I am thinking that you are being very unfair, knowing that I will not be able to deny you, but also knowing that, until now, it had been you who called a halt to things. I am reminded that the whole thing is unequal and you are very much in the driving seat.
You ignore me and remove the shirt. Your skin looks very white in the stark light coming from the pendant fitting and is made to look whiter in contrast to the bra you are wearing.
You unbutton your jeans and slide them over your hips. Your underwear is also black and I admit, my eye is drawn to your sex, the vee shape of your panties acts like a pointer. Reaching behind your back, you unclasp your bra to reveal your breasts. You have small nipples and areoles that are only slightly darker than your skin. The time in the gym has toned your muscle structure. You are slender, but not skinny. The major muscles are clearly identified. You look amazing and I tell you so. Your skin is flawless. Not having had children helps.
You walk towards me, eyes locked on mine. I am still telling you that this is not a good idea and you tell me to hush. Your hands grasp the belt of my robe and untie the knot, allowing the robe to fall open. I have nothing on underneath.
So, you are shaved you say, as if you hadn’t believed me. My cock starts to harden as your attention centres on it.
You kneel and wrap your right hand around my hardening shaft, rubbing slowly and with a deft touch, encircle my rapidly stiffening cock. You look up into my eyes and open your mouth and lick me, pushing your tongue into the slit, taking the pre-cum that slips from me. The sight is possibly the most erotic that I can remember. I have dreamt of just such a moment. The reality is much better than the imagination could have conjured up.
Slowly, you take me into your mouth while your hand gently pumps me. You suck the inch that has passed your lips. It is a divine feeling and quickly has me as hard as I have ever been. You stick your tongue out and slide as much of me as you can between your teeth and make an mmm sound of pleasure. The reverberation creates a delicious feeling that travels right up to my brain. I am sure I groan at the sheer delight of having you as I had hoped for, as I had dreamed.
You are unable to keep eye contact and begin to suck in earnest. The pressure is wonderful, but I cannot allow it to go on for much longer. The tingling is so good that I know I will explode far too early. All pretence of denial has fled. I want this as much as I have wanted anything.
I grasp your head and urge you to stand up which you do, but it seemed, reluctantly. I kiss your mouth, tasting myself on your lips and run my hands over your body. You feel exquisite. Your skin is soft to the touch and warm. You stand, facing me as I stroke your neck, shoulders and cup your breasts in my hands. Your small nipples harden under my palms. It is difficult to know what you are feeling, whether you like me touching you or not. You show very little outward reaction. Your breathing is steady. You look at me with a half-smile that crinkles the corner of your mouth.
I decide that it is my turn to give you the pleasure of oral sex. I do remember you telling me that you prefer to give than receive and, I remember saying that you may not have ever had it done as it should be. Perhaps that was a little conceited of me, thinking that I might be better at it than any previous lover of yours. But, to me, it is a natural order of things. I do not just take without giving back.
I sit you on the edge of the armchair that is usual in in a standard hotel room. But, before your bottom rests on the cushion, I have tugged the waistband of your panties down. I would not have guessed that your natural colour is brown. It is, at least, the colour of your pubic hair, neatly trimmed into a vee shape.
You shake your head when you realise what I am about to do from my kneeling position, but like you, I ignore your objection and gentle prise your knees apart.
You smell divine. That hint of musk which is familiar as of woman, but subtly different to any other, as it should be. I nuzzle against your pubic bone and imprint your aroma in my memory and savour it as it passes over my sinus. Your taste, when my tongue reaches out to part your lips, is also committed to memory. You are wet already and it is the first real sign I have that your body is responding.
It would be too easy to just dive into you and perhaps, spoil the occasion with haste. I managed to take it slowly, just licking you with the tip of my tongue, over and around your vulva and then to your clit while my hands stroke your thighs.
I am rewarded by a slight lift of your pelvis as you anticipate my tongue grazing against your nub. And, then when it flicks over that centre of nerve endings, I hear a small intake of breath. I notice that you are gripping the arms of the chair and that your knuckles are white. These are small indications that I am pleasing you and I think to myself that, these small signs maybe all I get as indicators in someone who is so undemonstrative as you are. It is something quite different from other lovers I have had and means that I need to pay special attention and concentrate on the nuances of your reactions.
You shift forward on the edge of the chair and open your legs wider to allow a greater access to you. I take it as an invitation to enter you with my tongue. My right hand is flat on your lower stomach, just above your pubic bone. Gentle, with the least amount of pressure I can impart, I pull your skin up which brings your lips and entrance to an angle that is more comfortable for me with less strain on the back of my neck. My mouth breaks contact for a moment and I look into your eyes. The Hazel has become quite dark, brown almost, as you stare steadily at me, pupils dilated as if to take in all and everything at once.
Slowly, I lower my head, closing the space between us and then push my extended tongue between your lips. You rock your pelvis and suddenly, your hands are gripping the back of my head, grinding my face into you. I suck you into my mouth, delving as deeply as I can and then pulling your lips between my teeth, sucking them and mashing my nose over your clit.
You shudder and pull my head away and tell me that you cannot take any more of that. I do not need to ask if you liked it and perhaps, I felt a little triumph that you had enjoyed something you previously had not.
I stand up, knees creaking and cracking and take the papers off of the bed, placing them on the dressing table carefully so that they do not get mixed up. You rise from the chair and take the three or four steps to the bed. I realise again, that you have a fabulous body and tell you so. A smile is my answer as your kneel on the edge of the bed, waiting for me to join you.
My robe hits the floor and is discarded. I have never been embarrassed by nakedness. I am fortunate that I am not overweight and even, for a man of my age, have kept reasonably fit. But somehow, in front of you, I am acutely aware that I am so much older and fret momentarily, that you will not like what you see. I push it to one side and get on the bed as quickly as possible.
You fall into my arms, your body warm and soft. Your tousled blond coloured hair tickles the skin on my shoulder. I kiss you. Our mouths open and tongues caressing each other’s. The heat between us builds up, reaching a fever pitch as our bodies meld into each other. Your breast fits into my hand. The hard nub of your nipple presses into my palm and feels like it belongs there.
You throw a leg over me, pressing your pubic bone against my thigh and rub yourself against me. Your normal reserve is being let loose, put to one side as basic instinct and need takes over. I can feel your heart tripping against your ribs under my hand and your breathing is rapid, drawn between our lips which are still joined.
You push me onto my back and straddle me. I enter you easily; a perfect fit and I hold my breath for a moment, waiting for you to impale yourself fully. It is deliciously slowly that your back arches and centimetre by centimetre, you sink down on my length. You place your hands on my chest as a brace and begin to rock. I am content to lay still and watch you, drink in your beauty. Your mouth is open, dragging in air and your eyes are closed. You look beautiful and I marvel at your perfect shape, unblemished, pristine and fucking me.
I feel like I could stay like this forever, locked in coitus with you, buried deeply inside and it feels so right, so glorious and I do not want it to end.
You quicken the pace, your hips rocking, driving me deeply into you and rubbing your clit against me, your need to orgasm is becoming greater. I decide, without really thinking about it, to contribute towards your quest for fulfilment and begin to thrust up, increasing my depth and the pressure on your clit as we bang together.
You push up into a squatting position, your hands cup your breasts and you pinch your nipples between thumb and the side of your forefinger, pulling viciously as if punishing them as your orgasm approaches. Working in counterpoint, my organ plunges deeply and then almost is withdrawn. It is a pace that I will not be able to maintain, but it will not matter too much. You are growling now, a deep throated growl which, at any other time, would make me laugh, but now is signifying your arrival. I can feel your sex gripping me tightly, massaging my cock and your inner walls, bringing me to my own moment of exquisite bliss.
It hits you suddenly. Your head is thrown back, hair flailing. Your claw like hands grip your breasts, far harder than I would have done. Knuckles white as the flesh is tortured. I think you will scream, but instead you groan and grit your teeth. Your eyes squeezed tightly shut. Knowing you have reached your goal, my own climax is realised. In almost painful blasts, my seed is pumped deep inside you. I grasp your thighs and try to delve even deeper, as if trying to be completely immersed inside of your body, subsumed and joined for all time.
We stay, joined and immobile for many minutes. I am trying to regain control of my breath and reduce my heart rate to something near normal. Your eyes open and regard me silently in a steady gaze. And then I see a tear slide over your cheek. I reach up and cup your cheek in my hand. You lean into my palm as another tear leaves your eyes.
This will never happen again you tell me as my cock and seed slip from your body. It can never ever happen again you repeat as if to reinforce your words. You get up off of me and silently get dressed. I tell you that I understand, but once again, I am confused. I had been resigned to our not getting together, to heeding your words when you told me you did not want to enter into an affair. But, then, tonight, you arrive at my door and take the lead, only to tell me afterwards, that that is it. Never to be repeated. Do you expect me to just forget it? Chalk it up to experience? Call it a pleasant interlude? Because, yes, it was all of those, but also, it was something special for me. Unexpected and a sheer delight and a reaffirmation that I love you, wholeheartedly, but know that it will not be returned in the same way. I can’t help wondering why you came to my room. Why you gave yourself to me or rather, took me for yourself. I ask you why, what changed your mind. What made you come to my room? I do not expect an answer and do not get one.
Instead, you say to me, thank you for being so patient with you. As if this brief interlude was by way of reward for not pushing you too hard.
You pick up the papers you brought with you. Kiss my lips and then slip from the room as silently as you came, leaving me to deal with the aftermath of our sex and the confusion you have caused.
I cannot help but feel that this was more about your own gratification; that, where there was a distinct lack of extended foreplay or preamble, you were satisfying yourself and nothing else. Away from home and husband, knowing you would have a willing partner, you took the opportunity to take advantage of my inability to say no to you. The whole episode took less than an hour, the sex less than half of that time and quite different from how I envisaged it might be. For me, the sex was nice, a pleasant release and an unexpected climax, but it lacked that certain something which makes it great. Perhaps it is that there was no romance in the event, a quickie almost, devoid of feelings or emotion, no tenderness or mutual arousal. It had nothing to do with love and that I find, hard to take.
The Management weekend passes in a hectic round of inspirational talks. It is a busy time, punctuated by meal breaks and another night. You pretty much ignore me and when we do need to interact in the context of the weekend, you are aloof and keep me at arm’s length. I feel as if I have served my purpose and are now, no longer of interest.
The following week, back at the College, you refuse my offer of coffee and are quite cold toward me. I feel as if I have done something wrong, done something to upset you or didn’t measure up. I ask you point blank. You tell me that you have made up your mind, I will not figure in your thinking again. It is cold and my opinion of you changes a bit. I could understand the blowing hot and cold, putting that down to nerves, but find this complete shut out beyond me. I back off and try to keep our meetings to the very minimum possible.
That was five weeks ago. Time for me to get used to the way things are and go beyond the feeling of us. There never was an ‘us’ was there?
I noticed that you seem to be spending time with a colleague. He too is a senior manager, married and about the same age as me. I think about warning him, but decide he is old enough to sort it out for himself. I do wonder though, what it is you are looking for or are you just thrill seeking? I feel some pity for him and know what he is likely to go through.
I wish you good luck in your quest, if that is what it is and hope that one day, you will find that which you seek. I know it is not I and I believe you do not know what it is either.
When this started, my emotions were smashed beyond control. It started out as something exciting, thrilling even and a boost to my ego. I could not understand why you chose to become involved with me. Why you were keen and then did a one hundred and eighty degree turn around. I kept your name out of the story, for that is what it has now become, to save you from any kind of embarrassment. Now, as things are and after that single night, I considered changing the title, but decided against it.
You might wonder why I bothered to write anything beyond the fantasy. Well, in truth, it is my way of sorting it all out, trying to understand and washing it all away. By putting it down on the screen, I can read it and try to see the pattern.
It may seem to be a confusing story to read, but that is how it happened. It was a confusing time for me and I thought it was for you too. But, now I believe you had an ulterior motive from the start. One I cannot guess at perhaps, but I do think you had some kind of design. Then again, your tears after consummation were quite real and the only time I have seen real emotion from you.
‘A’, you are an enigma to me; A conundrum and quite frankly, the woman of my dreams, but a nightmare to be with. I could never feel any kind of balance and that is quite disconcerting for me.
The story has taken months to write. Not because I am a slow writer, but because it has been done as the events unfolded. It started out as a fantasy we might have shared and ends in that one, for me, special night. I don’t know whether to thank you or curse you.
Take care my love and good luck with your search. I truly hope you find what your heart desires.
That, my friends, would seem to be the end of the story. Not so.
Several months later, when you had either become bored with my replacement fantasy, you inform me that you and your husband of seven years have amicably parted. Both of your marriages lasted the same amount of time. Privately, I think that you have experienced that infamous seven-year itch. Thinking further, I realise that you are still seeking something, a goal or ambition, but are unaware of what it is.
At your request, we share an afternoon tea in Hyde Park. Walking around the lake while I listen to you explain your dreams and wishes for your future. How you have recently started to paint and are thinking about embarking on becoming a motivational speaker. Of course, I make encouraging remarks and tell you that you can become whatever your heart desires.
At last, after a circuit of the lake, you sit down on a vacant bench, half turned towards me, looking fabulous as you always do.
Suddenly, your demeanour has changed and you become quite serious, less flighty or frivolous. It is then that you almost floor me when you ask if I want you. If I could be with you; could I love you?
My answer, when it eventually comes, after a few minutes thought, is a negative response. I hasten to tell you that it isn’t because you are not desirable; God knows you are, but you have a way to go on this journey that you have embarked upon. A journey with an, as yet, determined destination.
And then, I ask you if you could love me as unconditionally as you asked of me. I already know the true answer even though you tell me you could. Call it instinct or some innate sense, but I fully realise that I would also end up like your husband and the marriage before, that I would not last with you and that you are driven by an unknown need. It is a need that does not allow you to settle. You will never become domesticated.
I answer that, yes, I would love to make love to you once more when you asked if I would like that. The positive answer is qualified in that it would be devoid of emotion. I had realised that we would never be anything more than sexual partners in the basest sense and even that, limited to opportunity.
You accept that and agree that that is how it has to be.
Our lunchtime excursion around Hyde Park ended up at your new flat in South West London. The flat is part of a conversion of a Georgian house in a fashionable part of town that was well furnished and overlooked a huge park.
We made love. Actually, we fucked each other, spending much time on mutually stimulating each other’s bodies. It was a pleasant time and provided a much needed release. However, when we were dressed, I could not help feeling that, somehow, I had been used to ease your tensions and was now discarded.
I told you goodbye just before the door closed on me. Goodbye it was. A parting that seemed to be final. Within a few days, you had changed jobs and then, shortly after that, you left to pursue a new career motivationally speaking. The last I heard of you was a Face Book message from Australia.
So, I say unto you…
You have never ceased to amaze me. Confound me and somehow, leave me feeling as if I had escaped a fate. At the same time, you are so desirable, intoxicating and an enigma that baffles the mind.
I hope that one day, you will find your true calling. I hope that you will find that for which you search. I hope that you will, at last, be happy. I wish for you that it is within this lifetime.
Bon voyage!
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