Posted on

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


True story. Some license has been taken, and details changed to protect the guilty, but aside from that.. this is what happened.


My last proper date wasn’t technically a date at all. We were supposed to be meeting friends, catching dinner together and then going to see the show. His girlfriend was supposed to be coming. Not that she minded, but still.

“Supposed to be” is the relevant term here. Our friends were running late, and the girl couldn’t make it – some sort of emergency at work. So we caught up for dinner anyway, and walked into town together. It took us ten minutes to decide where to eat, but it was a gorgeous evening, and neither of us minded. Sitting in the window of a small Italian restaurant, I felt as if we could be any couple. We could be normal, in love and happy, and uncomplicated.

Three weeks earlier, we’d met properly for the first time. We’d worked together for close to two years, but in different departments, and we hadn’t really spoken much before then. I’d always thought he was attractive, tall and lean, with dark, intelligent eyes, and a wicked sense of style, but he was in a relationship and I don’t poach. He was clever too, well read and articulate, and I love people who aren’t afraid to discuss difficult subjects like religion or politics. Or sex.

I don’t know why it took so long for us to talk to one another, but once we did, it was like a dam bursting. One email turned into one a day, turned into one an hour, turned into having lunch together every day. We confided in one another, talked about everything and anything. Computers, religion, pendik escort politics – and sex. He said he was in an open relationship, that he and the girl played with other people – had done it before, might do it again. He said he found me attractive, not only physically but mentally and emotionally. He said that the girl thought I was hot. That she’d asked him if he thought I’d go home with them.

I was wary of getting involved with a couple. I’ve done it before, once, and it ended badly and took a friendship of several years with it. But they had been together for six years, had done this nonmonogamy thing before, I thought, surely it would be alright. We could play, once at least, perhaps on some sort of semi-regular basis, be friends. Go out together; go home together, sometimes. I have this fascination with couples, the way some girls have a thing for long hair or a cute ass, and they were both smoking hot. So I said maybe. Said I was intrigued – not shocked, not sure, but interested.

They invited me to dinner.

I cannot express how damn hot it was. Sprawled naked on their couch, I could barely breathe, feeling their tongues flickering across my nipples, one to each. The smell of her hair, as I held her – aching with the need to protect and keep her, or fuck her. His hands drawing across my skin, larger than life, fisted in my hair and tugging my head back. I remember only moments of sensory overload, of hands and mouths and skin. He went down on me, and it could have been minutes or hours that he licked and purred against my puss, I don’t know. Time lost any meaning.

Since maltepe escort then, we’ve been slipping into something much more complicated than friends who fuck occasionally, he and I. I think it’s love. We sneak off at lunch time, just to sit together, to be touching. I miss him, if I don’t see him for a day. We steal kisses in the elevator, and sigh when anyone gets in with us – because we’re supposed to be discreet. The girl doesn’t want to have to explain her sex life to anyone, least of all his workmates, or mine.

It was nice, for a few hours, to relax and not worry about it. Not to pretend that there was nothing between us, nothing going on – to just be happy and uncomplicated. Dinner was sweet, and relaxed. We’d already had the awkward first kiss, where you bang your teeth and bump noses, and have to come up for air to laugh because you feel silly. We’d already pressed our naked skin together, slick with sweat and body heat. But we’d never been on a date.

I could talk for a week about the show, but I won’t. Enough to say that it was brilliant, moving and thought provoking, and clever. And the best part about it was seeing it with him. Sitting in the dark, holding hands, or leaning on his shoulder with his arm around me, watching the light-show and the dancers. It’s one of those memories which I will treasure, for as long as I live. Our friends never showed, turns out they were double booked, and one lost her wallet and had to go back for it as well. I can’t honestly say I minded.

He lived three blocks from the theatre. It took us two hours to get there.

We kartal escort watched the crowd of people slowly disperse as we wandered across the square, talking about something. I forget what. One corner, around the building, and then another into a deserted side street. Before I could blink, he kissed me. Slammed me back against the wall, and held me there, while he kissed me as if I were water, and he was dying of thirst. The dark, and the edge of violence, brought a moan out of me. It spurred him on, as I kissed him back. Pushed him back, against the opposite wall, to return the favour. I growled into his mouth, kissed down his throat, and bit his neck. There is no rush on Earth like the sound of his breath catching as I did that, the way he moaned.

No rush on Earth – except perhaps being backed down an alley as he kissed me, one hand fisted in my hair, the other sliding inside my shirt. He whispered against my ear, how much he wanted me, right there. Just what he’d do to me in this dark, private corner, under the CCTV cameras, if he could. If I wanted him to. He pressed me back against the wall, and bit the side of my neck, hard. Hard enough to kick-start a rush of endorphins and adrenalin, to spike my body temperature and make my cry out. Enough that I wanted him to do anything, and everything, he could think of.

The security guard took a minute to realise what we were up to. He started out shouting at us, what are you doing over there? But within a minute or so he was laughing instead, told us not to worry, just carry on, it’s ok. I wish we had – but the moment was gone, and we were laughing too. Caught out like teenagers in the back row of a movie, unable to keep our hands off of one another. We giggled to ourselves all the way back to his apartment, between kisses.

Every time I see an alleyway, now, I think of him.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir