Disclaimer: If you are under 18 or otherwise legally restricted from viewing material of an erotic nature GO AWAY! If you are offended by sexually explicit material why are you here in the first place?
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As usual, she hadn't called until she needed something, and as usual I complied. There's a twisted kind of dance between a couple who have been together and are trying to maintain civil a relationship afterwards. There's never really a breakup that is entirely mutual, deep down there's always one person who feels a sense of loss and regret not shared by the other. It's a fact of life and is just something that has to be accepted, but when you're the one still harbouring those feelings it can become very easy to fall into a situation you're better off not in.
If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm the "harbouring feelings" half of this particular failed relationship. Despite a girlfriend I love and everything else, whenever she calls I come running, and I still fantasize about her sometimes. I know she has some inkling of this, but its not in her nature to do anything but take advantage of an opportunity. She doesn't really even do it cruelly, just selfishly, which brings us to her call.
She was bright and bouncy sounding, a nice change since her extended single period was beginning to wear on her, and she hadn't been overjoyed during the holidays, a time when many of us feel the greatest sense of loneliness. She was calling to find out if I owned a digital camera (I had received one as a Christmas present not four days earlier).
"I actually just received one as a gift," I acknowledged, waiting to hear what came next. "Good," she said, "I thought you might get one. I was wondering if you could come over and take some photos for me, I want to upload them onto DateMe.com and see if I can find myself a boyfriend."
This was the perfect example, the casual assumption that just because I was involved meant that I would happily assist her in finding someone else was typical. It wasn't that she didn't know how I felt, it was just I was convenient, and at some level I think she enjoyed knowing she could get me to do things for her even when I didn't want to. A little power trip she exercised when opportunity arose.
We made arrangements to get together the next evening, have a couple of drinks at her place and then take some pictures. Obviously for a dating service she wasn't planning any X rated shots, though I'd be lying to say the idea hadn't crossed my mind, along with all kinds of other lewd thoughts.
I knocked on her door, a muffled voice answering that I should come in and get comfortable. Opening the door I pulled off my shoes, strolled into the kitchen and found a pitcher of martinis already mixed sitting on the counter with a couple of cold glasses. Pouring myself one I heard the shower start, along with the associated noises of someone clambering into the shower. I seemed to have a bit of time on my hands, time I used to finish my first martini and start in on a second.
When the shower finally stopped the bathroom door opened a crack and she called out to me to "Work on that pitcher", saying she needed to get herself together for the photos. I am not a lightweight when it comes to drinking, but four martinis on an empty stomach was enough for me to have a nice glow going by the time she finally finished.
Maybe it was "beer goggles" (or martini goggles in my case), but I'd never seen her looking as good, a tight cardigan over a pushup bra showing off her breasts to their best advantage, a short skirt over sheer nylons and strapped open-toed black heels.
She smiled as I let out a low whistle, moving to the other side of the counter and picking up the martini pitcher. "Well, I see we'll need a couple more of these mixed up," she laughed, getting the Sapphire bottle off the bar. Staring dumbfounded at her I wasn't about to argue.
Two martinis apiece later she was relaxing, playing with her hair while I moved into the realm of heavily buzzing. "Shall we shoot a couple of pics now" she asked, standing and languidly moving over to the couch where she sprawled like a Roman at a feast. I moved up, first taking full shots, then moving in on her face.
Suddenly, in the middle of a set of closeup shots I felt something touch my leg, moving up from my ankle to my knee. I looked down to see her foot, shoe dangling, slowing tracing up and down my leg. I stood frozen as she stared at me, eyes half lidded. "Do you know why I want these pictures?" she asked, her toes continuing to glide along the side of my leg. "Do you?" she asked again, a little more aggressively.
I nodded, "You want to find a boyfriend, someone to date." I mumbled as she sat up, her skirt riding up her thighs a bit, revealing that she was wearing stockings as opposed to nylons. "Wrong," she snapped, holding my eyes with hers "Its because I'm horny. You know I have no intention of getting into a relationship, I like my freedom, but I do want someone to go out with, and I want someone to help with my needs."
"You miss me don't you?" she asked, knowing the answer, making me say it. I nodded, eyes straying unconsciously to the hint of skin showing above the top of her stockings. Looking back up quickly I caught her smirk as she followed my eyes.
"Mmmm," she murmured, slowly sliding her hands up the sides of her skirt, lifting it another couple of inches, gradually revealing a hint of dark hair at the juncture of her thighs, "I actually anticipated that answer when I dressed for this. You know, took the liberty of removing hindrances."
