What you do to me
Submitted to Allurestorm by Alden Bradley
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What drew me to her was a presence I couldn’t define. All I knew is that she attracted me just being in the room. I knew that whatever happened from now on the course of my life would forever be changed because I knew she existed.
“Have you met Cheryl yet?” the hostess addressed me with a light touch on my arm.
“Not yet,” I admitted. “I’d love to, though.”
“Behave yourself,” she admonished me. “She’s married.”
“No doubt,” I responded, unable to keep the dejection out of my voice.
“Cheryl!” the hostess called out. “I want you to meet Andrew.”
Her eyes fixed on mine and held them captive, as a benign smile touched her generous lips. She held up a delicate hand. “Andrew?” she asked.
The skin was soft. I raised it to my lips.
“Drew,” I said softly. “A pleasure.”
I saw her glance across the room to where several of the males had gathered around a flat-screen TV displaying a football match. I assumed her husband was one of the group.
“Can I help you find something?” I asked her.
She shook her head slightly, her dark hair swirling around delicate features. “No. Just being careful.”
I smiled. “You’re a faithful wife,” I chuckled. “I haven’t defiled you. Not yet.”
“And you won’t,” she replied, a spark of defiance lighting her eyes.
“I understand,” I said. “All I desire is to be near you so that we can get to know each other.”
“I think you might be dangerous,” she grinned.
“Not at all,” I protested gently. “I will never ask you to do or say anything you don’t want to do or say.”
“So I should trust you?” she grinned.
I nodded. “My intentions are pure.”
“Pure nonsense,” she laughed delicately.
“Why would you think that?”
“I’ve seen that look,” she challenged. “I know what you want.”
I shook my head. “You’ve misjudged me.”
Her eyes searched my face. “Maybe. Still, I’m safer keeping my distance from you.”
“Is that what you want?” I asked gently.
She was silent for a moment. “What is it about you that makes me want to say no?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps you feel the same magnetism I do?”
She smiled. “I knew you were dangerous. My husband…” She stopped.
“Is busy watching the match. Does he even know you’re here?”
“He knows.”
“Does he care?”
“What does that mean?”
“I can’t keep my eyes off you. I can’t stay away from you. I’d like to know you better, to understand what you think, how you react, and what your inner desires are. Do you think he feels the same way?”
“You have to stop this. I made promises.”
“Just talk to me, Cheryl. Nothing more. We’ll talk.”
So we talked. It went on for more than an hour. We laughed a bit, and I wagged a finger at her when she resorted to being coy. She was frank, honest, and delightful. I behaved myself, sort of. I didn’t miss an opportunity to touch her hand, and even tapped her knee once or twice as I emphasized some point or another. When I came time for me to leave, I broached the possibility of another encounter in the future.
“Can I call you?” I asked. “Sometime during the week?”
“What for?”
“To talk, Cheryl. I like talking with you.”
Her dark hair swirled. “You have email?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s do that, then. Not as much of a chance we’ll be caught.”
I shrugged. “We won’t be doing anything naughty,” I assured her.
“Email would be better.”
We exchanged email addresses. I kissed her soft hand and sought out the hostess in preparation for my departure.
“You and Cheryl seemed to get on pretty well,” she remarked with a sly grin.
“She’s lovely,” I agreed. “We had a wonderful talk.”
“I’m glad for you both. Her husband pretty much ignores her. It’s good she has someone to talk to.”
I kissed her cheek. “Thanks for this evening,” I told her, “And for introducing me to Cheryl.”
“Treat her right, Drew,” she warned. “She’s special to me.”
“Indeed,” I nodded. “She may be special to me as well,” I told her. “I’m quite taken with her.”
“Just be careful,” she said, leaning on the open door as she saw me out.
“I will,” I confirmed, waving farewell and heading toward the lift.
Our first few encounters were fairly innocuous. Cheryl refused to call them dates.
“Married women don’t date,” she stated firmly.
“Actually, they do,” I suggested with an easy smile. “They have shopping dates, salon dates, spa dates with their friends.”
She gave me a stern look. “That’s not what I mean.”
“It’s good,” I acquiesced. “I’m fine with an encounter with you.”
We went to an art gallery and walked past the paintings, sculptures, and native artifacts. We didn’t touch. There was a pull; an attraction, but we were restrained and resisted.
We had a light lunch in an outdoor café. It gave us time to talk.
“What time do you have to be home?” I asked her.
“No later than five.” Her answer was curt.
“That’s later than I expected.”
“What is it that you do that allows you to wander the streets like this during the middle of a workday?”
“I do home computer work,” I told her. “Some design. Site maintenance. Deadlines are often midnight or later, so I work when I have to and play when I want.”
“And this is play?” she teased.
“Let’s call it enjoyment. I like being with you.”
“Why?”
“Ah, there’s the rub,” I laughed. “First, I find you attractive. I like to look at you. I think you’re funny. In a very unique way, you have a manner that suggests there’s a wonderful joke going on. You hint around the edges of it, but never address it directly. That makes you marvelously intriguing. And, at the same time, you’re so serious it is almost intimidating. I’m challenged to make you smile.
“I might ask you the same question. Why have you agreed to this encounter?”
Her eyes looked down and she twisted a fork in her fingers uneasily. “Being around you is kind of scary. It gives me a sense of tension that makes me feel uneasy, challenged, and excited, all at the same time. You’re a man, so I know what you want. But you’re not overbearing about it, so being close to you gives me a thrilling challenge to fend off your attentions while enjoying the things we do together.”
“In other words,” I replied, “I can make you feel naughty without you really doing anything that is naughty.”
Her dark hair swung enticingly as she nodded.
“I’ve told you that I wouldn’t ask you to do anything you don’t want. I mean that. And, I promise to always have you back in your world by five. I don’t want you to ever regret our spending time together.”
Two days later, we attended a matinee concert in a small theater. Afterwards, we had a single cocktail in a dark hotel bar before going to a little hole-in-the-wall eatery. Again, we hadn’t touched, other than my gentle guiding hand in the small of her back as we entered the door.
“Now I can tell everybody I took you to a hotel,” I chuckled lightly as we sat down.
“Don’t you dare! Besides, it was just the lounge.”
“You needn’t worry, Cheryl,” I said easily. “I never talk to anyone about our encounters. They’re for you and me alone. Have you told Jack?”
“No,” she said simply.
“Why not? We haven’t done anything wicked yet.”
“Yet? Do you think we’re going to do something wicked? We’re not, you know.”
“I nodded. “Then why haven’t you told him?”
Her little shrug was kind of cute. “He’s a bit controlling. He might not like it, knowing that I’ve been meeting you. It’s a tiny little secret that I’ll be keeping to myself.”
“So, do you think what we’ve done is kind of wicked?” I chuckled.
“No,” she said softly. “But he would want me to stop if he knew, and I don’t want to.”
“Still enthralled by the thrill?” I smiled at her.
Her eyes met mine. “Some of that,” she admitted.
We found a small park with a circular walk, a little fountain, and some benches. We walked the circular path, enjoying the atmosphere and being with one another. We sat on one of the benches and watched the few people strolling or seated in the grass on blankets, conversing or reading.
“So,” I asked, screwing up my courage, “Tell me all about your relationship.”
Cheryl intertwined her fingers and looked down. “It started with a lot of fire and commotion,” she said with small, sad smile. “But then,” she sighed, “I guess real life intruded. He works all the time. I’ve just become part of the furniture. He’d be astounded to learn that I feel like I’m just a fixture to provide for his needs; cooking, cleaning, and making a home for him.”
“And sex,” I stated.
She shook her head. “You can’t ask me that.”
I reached over and took her soft hand in mine. “I did, though.”
“You would think,” she began, then stopped. “He’s always so tired. It’s not his fault.”
“He doesn’t make love to you anymore?”
This time her eyes flashed with a hint of anger. “You’re too forward. That’s not something I can share with you.”
“But you can, if you want to,” I informed her. “You miss it.”
“Of course I do,” she said. “I try to avoid think about it.”
“Sometimes you can, but other times,” I shrugged, “You really wish somebody would make you feel wanton and sexy. You miss the excitement.”
“What makes you think you can read my mind?” she asked, an edge to her tone.
“You are an attractive woman. You deserved to be desired.”
“I’m married,” she said flatly. “Desire has nothing to do with it.”
I had to smile. “But it is still there. The need to be wanted, admired, and desired.”
“You’re very presumptuous.”
“Perhaps,” I conceded. “But I’m right, too. You want the excitement that comes with that feeling. You like the danger. That’s why you agree to meet with me. You like the feeling of walking on the edge of seduction; the danger that you might succumb and enjoy the experience of being wicked and naughty.”
“Is that why you’re doing this? Are you trying to seduce me?”
All innocence, I replied lightly. “Me? I’m just meeting with a friend, enjoying the company, sitting in a park and holding your hand.”
She whipped her hand away from mine.
I chuckled. “You see? You didn’t even realize it. But, you liked it. When I made mention of it, it scared you.”
“You are dangerous,” she said in a soft voice I could barely hear. “I knew you were dangerous.”
This time I laughed aloud. “It’s the danger you love, Cheryl. It’s not me that frightens you. What makes you really uneasy is the thought of what you might do.”
“I’m not going to do anything,” she protested firmly.
“Really?” I asked with a grin. “Will you meet me tomorrow at ten in the morning right here? We’ll stroll a bit, talk some, and I’ll take you to a marvelous lunch in a fancy restaurant. You’ll have to dress up. Will you do that?”
Her eyes met mine. I could see the indecision and discomfort dissolve into a softer surrender to the suggestion. “All right,” she said, her voice a whisper.
“One more thing,” I told her. “Tomorrow, I’m going to kiss you. It will be a tender, gentle kiss on your lips. You will kiss me back.”
“I won’t,” she said. “I can’t.”
“You want to, though. Right now, you desperately want to feel my lips on yours. But, not today. Tormorrow.”
She shook her head softly. “You can’t. I won’t let you.”
I smiled tenderly. “I will, and you will like it. But, I promise, if you resist, I won’t force the issue. But, you won’t resist. In fact, I think that you’ll be thinking of little else between now and then.”
“You’d better take me home,” she said.
As I left her at the corner near her place and walked away, I knew what would be going through her mind. She would consider what I’d said and waver between the options of propriety and throwing her caution to the wind. Cheryl really believed that I wouldn’t press her to do anything she didn’t want. But, in her gut, the churning excitement of the forbidden kiss she’d been promised would win out. She would rationalize that it was, after all, only a kiss. It was not a prelude to anything more. And she would recognize that she really did crave the excitement that a single kiss would create. She would then consider appropriate attire for our lunch encounter. It would be dressy without being overtly sexy. Her mind would review her wardrobe and try to decide what would work. She’d go about her wifely duties pragmatically, doing what needed to be done, but her mind would be full of the decisions to be made about her dress, and then unexpectedly return to the challenge and anticipation of our kiss.
It would be my second victory in my quest. The first was to get her to agree to meet with me. The second would be the focus on our encounters and the various details. Cheryl would be thinking about me, about us, and these thoughts would be front and center in her mind.
When we met at eleven the day of our next encounter I was delighted as the vision. I’d worn a white shirt and khaki trouser with a light, summer jacket. Cheryl had dressed in a lovely white top with a frilly collar that half hid-half revealed a deep cleavage. Her dark hair shown spectacularly and, in the same manner of the collar, hid, then revealed long earrings. She wore tight jeans that clung to her figure, and a pair of marvelously dangerous black heels.
“You look spectacular,” I said in admiration. “If I wasn’t in love with you before, I certainly am now.”
A blush rose through her face. “Stop that!” she ordered, a lovely hand slapping my forearm. “You’re not in love. You do look quite dapper, though. I like the jacket.”
I took her hand and guided it through my arm and held it there as we turned to walk. Cheryl didn’t resist.
“I hope we don’t have far to go,” she told me. “Walking in these heels is a real challenge.”
“Not far,” I assured her. “And, you can always hang onto me for balance.”
I felt her hand tighten on my arm.
We had a lovely luncheon in a shiny, bright, elegantly appointed dining room of a local hotel. Throughout, we talked lightly of the things we loved and hated, noted the things we shared; the attitudes about life, love, friends, and the future. What we had established as an hour-long lunch together stretched into a two-hour session of sharing and discovery.
“Well,” I said finally, glancing at my watch to make sure we wouldn’t be late getting her back to her normal life, “This has been most entertaining.”
“It’s been wonderful,” she said, stealing a glance at me from under her long eyelashes. I saw her eyes rest on my lips for a second. I knew what she was thinking.
“We have a short walk to our park,” I noted. “Will you be all right?”
“Yes, fine,” she replied.
“I have to tell you,” I grinned. “Those heels of yours are incredibly sexy.”
“Do you have some sort of foot thing?” she laughed.
“Not really,” I chuckled. “I just appreciate sexy shoes.”
We walked for a few minutes toward the little park. I spotted an empty bench and steered Cheryl toward it. We sat together at an angle, facing each other.
“Have I told you that I find you intriguing and devastating?” I asked, trying to sound light rather than serious.
“Not in those words,” she replied, her smile genuine. “At least, not today.”
“And do you still think I’m dangerous?”
“Now more than ever,” she said. “Only…”
“Tell me.”
She took a deep breath and her brilliant eyes flashed back and forth between mine. “I’m more afraid of what I might do rather than you.”
“But you have complete control,” I reminded her. “Nothing happens that you don’t want.”
Her smile was small and not as genuine.
We sat for several seconds.
“Well,” I said, “It’s time we find you a taxi. Can’t have you walking home in those heels.”
She surprised me by putting her hand across the top of mine. “Wait,” she said, with a touch of urgency.
“What is it?”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?”
“The kiss,” she said. “You said you were going to kiss me.”
“Ah!” I chuckled. “But you said you didn’t want that, so…”
“You’re kidding,” she accused.
I shook my head slowly. “I promised. Nothing that you don’t want.”
Her hand shifted to my cheek. “I’ve been thinking about it. It’s all I’ve been able to think about.”
“I see.”
“I want you to kiss me, Drew,” she said in a soft whisper.
I looked at her full, moist lips. “Cheryl,” I replied softly. “I will, if you want.”
“Please,” she said. “Kiss me.”
Her lips seemed to melt under mine. I felt her teeth sharp on my tongue as I gently probed. I heard a little intake of her breath, and then her tongue was touching mine, soft, slick, and insistent. My lips slid across hers and I stole a look into her face. Her eyes were closed and her hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck. I closed my own eyes and savored the taste and feel of her.
She pulled away slowly and I opened my eyes to see her staring into mine. “I think,” she said slowly. “I think that we’re in a very dangerous place, Drew.”
I pulled her toward me for another kiss, this one a tender, gentle meshing of our lips. She did not resist.
“You said once,” she stated, her voice husky with a touch of accusation.
I nodded. “You’re right,” I admitted. “I’m sorry.”
She grinned brightly. “Take your second kiss back,” she ordered.
“How?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“Like this,” she said, and then pressed her lips firmly onto mine.
“We can’t go on like this,” Cheryl said in a gentle rebuke, as if talking to a recalcitrant child.
It had been a week since our kissing session on the park bench. Still, she had agreed quickly to my email requesting another encounter. We sat in our little park, on a different bench. She had dressed in her standard casual style; a signal that there would be no extended luncheon in a more elegant setting.
“Can’t we?” I asked with an easy smile. “I really enjoyed kissing you.”
Cheryl pressed her hand atop mine. “That’s exactly the problem. I enjoyed it, too, perhaps a little too much.”
“Have you been having wicked thoughts about us?” I chuckled.
Her hair swung as she shook her head in resignation. “You shouldn’t ask me things like that.” It was another gentle reprimand.
“You know,” I told her easily, “I love how you answer my questions without answering them.”
“I’m married, Drew,” Cheryl said. “I made a commitment.”
I nodded my understanding. “At the same time,” I responded, “You haven’t shirked any of your responsibilities. You are always there for him. You’re ready and willing should he desire you. You keep your place tidy and have his meals ready. You’re living up to your commitment. His needs are met. Only yours go wanting.”
“You’re trying to convince me to do something I know is wrong,” she said softly.
“Whether or not it is wrong is only a judgment you make. And I’ve already told you that I’ll never ask you to do something you don’t want to do.”
She put her forearms on my shoulders and looked into my eyes for a long moment, searching for an answer that I didn’t have. “I have thought about you,” she finally admitted. “This past week has been a mixture of glorious excitement and torturous anxiety. Those kisses last week made my heart flip, my gut twist, and I actually thought that I wanted you. But, I can’t, Drew. I can’t imagine how guilty and ashamed I would feel afterwards.”
I nodded. “I would suck the guilt out of you through your lovely soft mouth, and kiss away your shame with the promise of a future filled with joy, excitement, and adoration.”
I felt her hands caressing the back of my head, her fingers intertwined in the short hairs. She pulled me toward her lips. I could feel the heat in her kiss; the desire in her tender sucking. I let my tongue slide forward and she grasped it in her mouth. My hands rested lightly on her upper arms. The warmth of her translated through the fabric of her top and into my fingers.
She released the kiss and added three, tender little touches of lips to lips.
“What have you done to me?” she asked in a whisper.
“Showed you how wonderful it feels to be desired again?” I asked in reply.
“You’ve led me to the edge, Drew. I’m so frightened.”
I squeezed her arms beneath my fingers. “I’ve got hold of you, Cheryl. It’s all right. Whatever you decide, I’ll still have hold of you.”
“Is there a place?” she asked. “Some place private where we can…” She stopped.
“I can arrange that,” I replied.
“And you promise that you’ll stop if I say so?”
“That is my basic promise to you, Cheryl.”
“Wednesday,” she said with resolve.
“I’ll arrange the place. It will be nice. Neutral ground. What are you thinking?”
“I’ll tell you in tomorrow’s email. I want to talk. I want to kiss. After that, I don’t know.”
I nodded. “I understand. One thing I want, though. It’s not negotiable.”
“What’s that?”
“I want to hold you, Cheryl. I want to hold you in my arms and feel your body pressed against mine.”
Her smile was rueful. “That’s nice. I thought it was going to be something more, you know.”
“Sexual?”
“Yes.”
I shook my head. “You’re a vision, Cheryl; a dream. For just a few hours, a few minutes, I want to hold that, to hold you close to me.”
She leaned in for another tender kiss. “What you do to me,” she sighed as she released me. “You’re so dangerous, but so tender. Yes, you can hold me. We can hold each other.”
“So you want that, too?”
She kissed me again. “Yes, Drew. I want that, too.”
“My dearest Drew,” the email began, filling me with dread that it would be the last one she would send me. “First, let me tell you how much I treasure the time we have spent together.” The dread swelled within me. “You have been wonderfully considerate, and very creative in selecting our activities. The truth is, though, that as much as I’ve enjoyed going and doing with you, my favorite times have been those when we have been alone together, especially in the park. You have been so open with me, so tender, understanding, and considerate. I treasure those moments when we sat together and shared. You’ve demanded nothing from me other than honesty.
“What I’ve come to realize, my dear Drew, is that you are not dangerous. I’m the one. I have allowed myself to delight in your attentions and, at the same time, weave a web of attraction that has led us to where we are. You were right. I want desperately to be desired, and I find that desire in you.”
My sense of despair increased. This was going to be the termination of our encounters, I was sure of it.
“When we kissed it made me feel so frightened. It was not about what you wanted, but the realization of the desire you awakened in me. I wanted more. I know you sensed that. What you couldn’t know what how much the tenderness you showed me aroused my passion. To be honest, if we’d been in a more private location I don’t know that I could have controlled myself.”
Here it comes, I thought.
“Yesterday, when we met, and talked, and kissed, did you notice how easily it all seemed to happen? We kissed each other as if we’d been doing it all along. It was tender, sweet and comfortable, and I loved that we had arrived at this level of easy familiarity. It still excites me to feel your lips on mine and to be able to share my desire with you.”
Hmmm, I thought. Do I sense a change in tone?
“Tomorrow we will have the privacy we haven’t had. I know you will be tender, considerate, and cautious. But I have such a burning desire to be with you, to possess you, and to have you take me that I’m concerned about my own ability to be restrained. In spite of my past reluctance, I know that this is the natural path for us. We are both adults, and what adults do when they realize their passions is what we are going to do tomorrow.”
That really IS a new and encouraging slant.
“You aroused me with your kisses, Drew, and made me realize that I’m both excited and frightened about what we will do tomorrow. I have been able to compartmentalize my life. What we are and do must separate from my traditional existence. Perhaps it is selfish of me to see it this way, but together we will satisfy a need in me that has gone out of my other life. The desire I have for romance and sexual gratification will forever be separate and distinct from my dedication and devotion to my husband.”
“I will send and erase this, dear Drew, so there will be no chance of discovery. Just know that I am looking forward to our encounter tomorrow. All I can hope for is that you will be as pleased as I think I will be. C.”
It had never been my intention to steal Cheryl from her husband. From what she said I was sure that would never happen. What I wanted to do was fill her with a sense of wonder, joy, exhilaration and ecstasy so that she would be completely happy and wonderfully fulfilled; a complete woman with a knowledge of her full potential.
What she had told me, in essence, was that I would never be hers. What she didn’t realize was that I already was.
When Cheryl appeared on Wednesday I almost didn’t recognize her. She looked stunning in a simple black dress that showed her soft shoulders and her arms. It was short enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of her thighs just above her knees, but long enough to be tastefully modest. What caused me to nearly miss knowing her were the large, dark sunglasses that obscured her eyes. But the way she approached me, intentionally and directly made it clear that she knew me and was headed in my direction.
“You are spectacular,” I admitted. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”
She lifted her face and tilted toward me, awaiting a greeting kiss. Inwardly I grinned at how quickly and easily we had transitioned to this point, with kisses being offered and expected rather than unique and illicit. I kissed her tenderly and quickly, simply lips on lips with a gentle suction.
“You look nice,” she said, noting my khaki slacks, white Polo shirt and summer-weight sports coat. Her voice, much to my astonishment, was neither timid nor nervous, but direct and assured. “Where are you taking me?”
“To our park first,” I stated. “I want to tell you something.”
“You could tell me here,” Cheryl asserted.
“In our park,” I insisted, wrapping her arm under mine and leading her toward the gateway.
Once we’d arrived I released her arm and turned to face her. “I got your email,” I said.
“What email?” she asked teasingly. “There was no email.”
“Oh, right,” I chuckled. “Sent and erased.”
“Um-hmm,” she assented.
“Walk a bit with me,” I suggested.
She stood on my left and I intertwined my ring and pinkie finger with the same digits on her right hand as we eased into a slow stroll.
“What was it you wanted to tell me?” she asked, her voice soft.
“Just this,” I began. “I understand I can never possess you. But, that doesn’t matter. I’ve never wanted to possess you. All I’ve ever wanted was to simply adore you, and for you to know that. I want us to be the best kind of friends; those who recognize the value of one another, who treasure each other, and who have the best interests of the other always foremost in mind.”
Cheryl nodded. “I appreciate that. And I do treasure the relationship we have.”
“I just want you to know that whatever happens today; if we make love, and I hope we do, that my intention is to give of myself to you. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take anything from you. I want to give you joy, love, exhilaration, happiness and a sense of being desired. I don’t want to take anything that you don’t want to give. The most important thing is that I want to preserve the wonderful relationship that we have.”
We strolled for a few moments in silence. Cheryl eased us to a stop. I turned to face her. She lifted our joined hands.
“This is the sexiest thing you’ve ever done,” she said. “There is intimacy in the way we’re connected like this.”
I gave her a small smile. “It is sexy, isn’t it?”
“Do you have a place for us?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Then let’s stop wasting the little time we have together and get there.”
We walked out of the park and into the lobby of the hotel where we’d had lunch. I guided her to the elevator and pushed the button for the eighth floor.
“You really will be able to tell your friends you took me to a hotel,” she said with a broad smile showing her perfect teeth.
“I told you,” I protested. “I don’t have friends. Certainly none that I would tell that.”
When we walked into the room I’d reserved I let Cheryl precede me. She looked at the window which displayed a view over our park and a portion of the city. The two beds were on our left. She glanced down at the one closest to the window as I approached her from behind and wrapped my arms around her waist. She tilted her head back as my lips approached her neck. I inhaled the delicate fragrance of her and held her tight as I planted several kisses on the delicate smoothness under her ear. I felt her move her arms as she tossed her purse onto the table to our right, then wrap her arms over mine.
“What you do to me,” she whispered, surrendering to the assault of my lips on her neck.
Cheryl lay on her left side as I spooned her from the rear among the shambles we’ve made of the bed.
“What’s the time?” she softly asked.
“Just one o’clock,” I answered, checking the bedside clock. “We have two more hours.”
“What will we do with two hours?” she teased.
I kissed her shoulder. “We could order room service, if you like,” I suggested. “Or, we could shower.”
Cheryl turned to face me, her eyes searching my face. “Or,” she said, leaving it hanging.
“We certainly could make love again,” I grinned at her.
She tenderly kissed my lips and I felt myself beginning to swell again. “We made love, Drew.”
Indeed we had. We had stripped one another carefully, interspersing our removal of each element of clothing with an increasingly passionate series of kisses. When I had removed her tantalizing bra and released her breasts to my view I had nuzzled them and kissed each nipple until Cheryl protested.
“Later,” she said, hoarsely. “Now I want you in me.”
We had stripped back the cover and top sheet and Cheryl had moved to the center on her back. She spread herself for me and reached to gather me into her embrace.
“You’re sure?” I asked.
“I’m waiting to feel you enter me, Drew. I’m offering myself to you.”
That first entry had been excruciatingly slow. Cheryl hummed a wonderful welcome as I eased my hardness into her velvety, moist flesh. I rested in her for a few moments to allow us both the opportunity to savor and adjust to the sensations. I drank in the vision of her as she lay beneath me, full of my throbbing flesh.
“How can anything so wicked feel so wonderful?” she asked in a whisper.
“Because,” I replied, “You’re not wicked. You’re incredible.”
I kissed her face, her eyes, her forehead, and her lips as we moved together. Cheryl pressed upward and against me as I thrust, seeking sensations. Her hands held my shoulders and pulled me toward her. She moaned softly, and her pink tongue licked her full, delectable lips.
“I love how this feels, Drew,” she said, as I felt her legs wrap around me.
“I knew you would, my darling,” I replied. “I knew you were dangerous.”
We continued moving together, kissing each other until Cheryl pushed my head away.
“Oh!” she gasped. “Oh, yes! Oh, my darling, Drew! Please! Now!”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” she replied in quick succession.
As I felt her tighten around me, my own release burned in my thighs and caused me to groan. She gripped me tightly with both arms and legs as I shot my essence into her pulsing depths.
Now we lay in the lazy aftermath just enjoying the presence of one another.
“We did indeed make love,” I noted, grinning in response to her observation.
Cheryl nodded, looking into my eyes. “And it was wonderful. But now…” Again, she left it hanging.
“Too much?” I asked.
“No, darling Drew. Now we can play.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Honey, you loved me. We loved each other. I got that. Now, I want the fun part.”
“The fun part?” I asked. “What does that even mean?”
“Baby, you’ve been wonderful; so patient, sweet, caring. Our first time was wonderful. Now, I want to touch you, feel you touch me, and, you know.”
“Play?”
She grinned at me, rotated across my hips and planted a kiss on my nose.
“Cheryl,” I started before she put a slender finger across my lips.
“Let’s have some fun, Drew. Let’s explore each other.” She pulled my head forward until it nestled between her soft breasts. “You started there earlier. Go ahead. Lick them. Suck them.”
I didn’t need much convincing. She rocked back and forth as I inhaled deeply, my tongue, lips and teeth testing and tasting the delicious flesh she presented me. I heard her gasp quietly as my tongue raked across one nipple and then the other. I lifted myself on my elbows and scooted back, brining Cheryl with me until I was resting against the headboard, propped on a couple of the pillows. She grinned at me and pressed her hips across my lower abdomen.
“When you’re ready,” she whispered with a coy smile, “I’m going to take you inside me and ride you.”
“Hmm,” I consented, my lips and tongue back to attending to her lovely breasts. Feeling the growth in my rod, I nodded, assured she wouldn’t have long to wait before I was erect.
“Do you like my breasts, Drew?” she murmured, as if teasing a threat to withdraw them from me.
I stopped long enough to reply. “I love them, Cheryl. Can’t you tell?”
She smiled a wicked little grin. “When you do that, it makes me tingle all over and wet down there.”
This time, my mouth full of her flesh and my tongue busy pressing a nipple against my teeth, I could only manage a hum of recognition.
“Do you want me to fuck you, Drew?” she rasped.
I’d never heard her use that word and was astounded at how easily it seem to flow from her. It caused me to stop.
“Yes, my darling,” I said raggedly, “If that’s what you want.”
“You made love to me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I want to fuck you.”
I grasped her neck with both hands and pulled her into a sensual kiss on the mouth. Our tongues tangled and battled with one another and Cheryl put her hands on my cheeks.
She pulled her lips from mine and rose to a kneeling position over me. One hand snaked between us and grabbed my hardened rod. She positioned it at her opening and slid downward, absorbing me into her warm, damp, welcoming recesses.
I watched her face, transfixed as I saw the mixture of expressions flow across it. There was the concentration of the manipulation, the expectancy as she lodged me just at the opening, a look of purpose as she eased me inside her, culminating in a wistful expression of contentment when she finally had me fully encased.
“Thank you for this,” she whispered to me. “This is just what I needed.”
“You’re kidding,” I replied. “You are beautiful, exotic, and completely adorable. This is the mental picture of you that will forever be lodged in my mind. And you can have this whenever you want it.”
Her smile was soft and delicate. “I think I’ll be wanting it a lot.”
I felt her compress on me. I gathered her soft hands into mine and interlocked our fingers. I squeezed, and she squeezed back. She rocked forward, pressing our linked fingers into the bed and withdrawing my hardness almost to the tip. Holding me down she eased backward until she had enveloped me once again.
“Do you know what I’m thinking?” she asked, challenging me to read her mind.
“You’ll have to tell me.”
She rocked forward and back again before answering. “I can’t see this, so I’m imagining how it looks. I think it looks sexy and awesome as your cock presses into me, disappearing in my flesh.”
“And that makes you feel sexy?”
She nodded and her soft hair tossed as she repeated the motion. Her bottom lip disappeared under her teeth. Her breath escaped in a short sigh. “Do you have any idea how good that feels?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I think I do since it’s my meat your body is swallowing like that.”
“Can I go faster?” she asked.
“Anything you want.”
She sped up the rhythm just a little, making sure she rubbed her breasts along my chest as she rocked back and forth. Her eyes closed as she concentrated on the sensations. She continued pressing forward and back, slowly advancing the tempo.
I couldn’t help but press into her. She was driving me nuts.
Her eyes flew open and I felt the fluttering grasp of her around me.
“Did you feel that?” she asked, nearly breathless.
I nodded.
“I came! I didn’t expect it. Do you know what that means?”
“What?”
“I want more,” she gasped. “More of those. It feels so good.”
She increased the tempo of her thrusts and pushed forward and back on me for another couple of minutes, moaning softly, then more loudly, until, with a huge groan, she collapsed on top of me. I felt her muscle pulsing in an irregular rhythm as she lay panting, nearly weeping, her breath hot on my neck and shoulder.
“You didn’t,” she panted into my ear.
“I already did once,” I acknowledged. “My next will take longer.”
She arose on her hands and knees and looked into my face, concern crossing hers. “That won’t do,” she said firmly.
“It’s all right,” I tried to sooth her. “Honestly.”
“No,” she said firmly. She eased off me and shuffled around. “Stand up,” she ordered.
“Really, Cheryl,” I protested. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It is to me. Get up.”
I stood by the bed.
“Come on,” she directed. “Get it inside me.”
She knelt at the edge of the bed and rocked herself back and forward in an invitation.
I stood behind her and held my rod, guiding toward her. When it touched her, Cheryl pressed backward. I eased inside her.
“It’s your turn to fuck me,” she said. “Do me, Drew. Fuck me.”
Her back was smooth and beautiful, sloping down from the rounded bottom that presented to me. I grasped her hips easily and began a slow rhythm of penetration and withdrawal. Her hair was gathered on her right shoulder as she knelt, her forearms resting flat on the bed.
“Yes, baby,” she said as I pushed into her. “You feel good. I want you to come.”
“You first,” I grunted, plunging into her.
She did, twice before I eventually felt the burning in my thighs. I held her hips firmly and buried myself inside her as my essence jetted through my hardness and into her welcoming warmth.
“Oh, fuck, yeah! Oh, baby!” she cried out as I released myself into for the second time that day.
As I withdrew I grabbed one of the towels we lay on the bedside table and pressed it against her opening. Cheryl grabbed it from me and fell forward on the bed, panting and gasping.
“Wasn’t that fun?” she asked between labored breaths. “I fucked you and you fucked me.”
I lay on the bed next to her and gathered a handful of her hair between my fingers. “It was,” I admitted. “Though, it wasn’t exactly what I expected.”
“What did you expect?” she asked, sounding serious.
“Honestly, I expected we would make love and then you would go home wracked with guilt and I’d never see you again.”
Cheryl’s laugh was rough, mostly because she had yet to fully recover her normal breathing. “I’m not going anywhere torn up with guilt, baby. I thought I’d made that clear.”
“Well, there are good intentions,” I said, “Then there’s reality.”
She turned on her side, hitched herself up on an elbow and planted a perfunctory kiss on my lips. “Here’s the reality. This part of my life has been missing for too long. It should be clear to you that I like this. Now, it’s not my fault it hasn’t happened. I’ve done everything I know to make it happen and all to no avail. So, if I can’t have it there, I’ll get it here.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” I said. “I don’t want you to feel guilty about this.”
“I’m a good wife, Drew. I’ve tried repeatedly to rekindle the spark. It hasn’t worked. So, I’ll continue to be a good wife. I’ll do the wifely things I’m supposed to do. But I need this, too. And until things change, I’ll do it this way. I deserve it.”
“You’re going to lead two lives,” I observed.
“If that’s what it takes, yes. At some point, things may change. When and if they do, I’ll adjust. But for now, this will do.”
“You know, you’re a lot stronger than I imagined,” I told her. “At first, I thought you were content to play victim of circumstance.”
This time the kiss was longer and contained more passion. “We’ll be all right, Drew,” Cheryl said. “We just have to remember to keep the two parts separate. I’m the dutiful wife during the evenings and weekends. And during those days that we can be together, I’ll be sexy, passionate, desired, and adored. Will that work for you?”
“I’ll take what I can get,” I nodded. “I’ll love you when I can, and otherwise I’ll be your faithful friend.”
Cheryl kissed me lightly one more time. “You are a good friend, Drew. You love me wonderfully. You’re also a really good fuck. I think I’ll keep you around for as long as I can.”
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