Jonathan's Apartment

"A medium latte for here please," Laurel said as she sifted through her purse in search of her wallet. A small line had formed behind her at the café counter as she fumbled, clumsily plucking her credit card from her wallet. Her hand shook when she reached over the counter to take the debit machine from the barista.

Laurel was feeling antsy, perhaps a bit on edge, in anticipation of her coffee date. Maybe it was the beat of the Top 40 music blaring through the cafe, or the stress of knowing she had held up the line of people just trying to get their caffeine kick for the day. Laurel's usual anxieties felt heightened, though this could have been brought on from the way her pantyhose hugged her waist and hips under her dress. Normally she'd wear slacks and something less binding, but today wasn't just any normal day.

Today Laurel had forgone her usual effortless look in exchange for a more feminine flare. She sported a long, silky, slimming black dress with a plunging v-neckline that exposed her ample chest. The buttons down the front of her dress made it contour around her curvy torso and delicious C cups, only to end halfway down her thigh, leaving a sinful slit along the rest of dress' length. She wore a pair of slender ankle boots with a small pump to give her legs and ass a boost. The bottom of the dress flowed freely as she grabbed her drink from the counter and found herself a seat.

It was rare for Laurel to wear form-fitting clothes, but she felt confident that her look would not go unnoticed. She wanted to be more than easy on the eyes. She'd slicked her wavy, chestnut coloured hair back into a neat ponytail so her neck and chest would be on display, leaving only a few tendrils of hair to graze the apples of her cheeks. She wore light layers of blush-toned makeup on her heart-shaped face: some rosy eyeshadow, light pink highlights below her temples, and a bold, fuchsia lipstick, which was her favourite way to draw the eye in. She'd learned in her 24 years of life to not be afraid of her own power to turn heads if and when she wanted to.

She retrieved a compact mirror out of her bag and sat up straight to take a quick look at her upper half. Laurel put on a gentle smile so her eyes would lighten up. She turned her head from side to side, admiring her own makeup artistry. Just as she closed the mirror, she heard a deep voice say, "well, don't you look lovely."

Laurel's face felt hot and flushed. She looked up to find the source of the sound and her eyes quickly met Jonathan's, sparkling and blue. "Calm down Laurel!" she thought to herself, as she put the compact away and stood nervously to give Jonathan a hug. She'd arrived about 10 minutes early to avoid a situation like this; she wanted to look natural, calm, and much less vain when he arrived. Anyhow, here the moment was. Here he was.

Jonathan was Laurel's former colleague, and though it had been some time since he left the ad agency for an exciting role elsewhere, it took no time at all for them to pursue a relationship outside of work, free from the confines of professionalism reserved only for colleagues. This had turned into a friendship, yet Laurel felt that it was ripening into a very tempting (but forbidden) fruit.

"Hi Jonathan," she said while giving him a hug. His 5'11 towered over her 5'4. He smelled so fresh as she brushed up against his body. His frame was full and solid. Intoxicating to her. "I'm always trying to look my best for you," she joked as they unlocked their hug. She rolled her eyes at him while he smirked her way.

"Why thank you Laurel," he said as he stared her up and down, "nice to see you. You're looking great. I'm going to get a drink."

Laurel felt her blush subsiding, but the wave of nerves moved deep into her stomach. She was learning to refine the art of subtle and not-so-subtle flirting with Jonathan. She had no trouble pretending she was keeping things professional, but she enjoyed doing things like biting her lip while listening intently to his stories, or flipping her hair to one side to reveal her neck and shoulders.

She loved noticing Jonathan's eyes dart straight to the exposed patches of her skin, if only for a split second. It made her wet when she noticed him scanning her upper body; she knew he was taking in her breasts, shoulders, and face. Laurel would apologize for fidgeting while he spoke, but she desperately wanted him to think of nuzzling his face into her neck, getting lost in the smoothness of her skin and the smell of her thick hair. She'd even felt her panties moistening just from their chemistry and the ease of their conversations alone. She'd go home only to touch herself while imagining some of the things she'd want to do with him.

"Ugh, fuck, Jonathan—" Laurel would moan to herself under the sheets, as she rubbed her clit with increasing speed. She'd climax to the mental image of having his face and head of brown hair buried between her legs. She would cum thinking about his tongue on her pussy, and come back to earth with the sobering reminder of how off-limits he really was.

Jonathan was a 40-year-old married man, but that never stopped Laurel from wondering how it might feel to have him touch her. She often wondered if he ever thought of her that way too. She was a single, 24-year-old junior graphic designer from the office. Even if the thought occurred to him, she figured he was too nice to ever act on it, though there were moments of possibility marked in her mind. The two had a friendly rapport in the office when they worked together, but there was that time they were the last two shutting down the office happy hour on a Friday night, carried away in a flirty, intellectual conversation. Laurel had downed some generously-poured gin and tonics all too quickly; the kind where you pour the booze straight into your cup without measuring it.

"Well Laurel, it's nice shooting the shit together. I hope I'm not keeping you," Jonathan said.

"I've got nowhere to be," Laurel replied, which was, frankly, a complete lie. She was meant to go home to make dinner with her roommate, but here she was, caught up in her first time alone with Jonathan, under the influence. His influence. "And I'm enjoying our conversation." That night he'd even asked if she wanted to go for more drinks at a bar. This was the invitation she'd dreamed of, but she was sober enough to be a good girl and say no, to her own chagrin. After that night, Laurel always wondered "what if?"

Attraction is a funny thing. Laurel was most attracted to Jonathan's style. There wasn't a day in the time she'd known him where his dark brown hair hadn't been well coiffed, though never over-styled. He wore designer glasses that framed his blue eyes. He wore flattering suits with interesting colour combinations. Sported sweaters with high quality knits. Leather satchels and slick briefcases. Laurel loved a man with style, and she couldn't get enough of the way Jonathan carried and dressed himself. It helped that he had wide shoulders and a medium stature that made her just want to sink into his arms. She buzzed around him the most when he'd take notice of what she was wearing, like he had today.

Jonathan returned to their table with his drink, instantly breaking the ice. "I thought about you this morning, Laurel. Are you still planning to go to Los Angeles in June? I found an article about a chef there; they say he makes the best French omelet outside of France. I can forward it to you."

A grin escaped Laurel's face. "Yes, I just booked my trip! I love French food, thanks Jonathan," she said, "I'll take a recommendation from you any day. I wouldn't have had half as much fun as I did in New York last year if you hadn't sent me so many great spots to check out." She was smiling knowing that he had thought of her. "What's new with you?" she asked.

"Laurel, I'll be honest with you. I've been pretty stressed out. My wife's out of town, and I have to find a new tenant for our rental property while she's away."

It was a bit wrong of her to read into it too much, but Laurel perked up knowing that Jonathan had asked her to meet him the week his wife was away. "Wow, thanks for taking time to meet me anyway. I didn't know you had a second place! What's it like? Does your wife normally take care of those things?" Laurel sipped her latte, looking into Jonathan's eyes.

"Yes, she does," he said, "I'm always more than happy to make time for you. I just don't trust my own judgment when it comes to choosing tenants. I actually have a viewing scheduled for right after our coffee. Would you mind coming with me for the viewing? You're a good judge of character. It's in an apartment building that's not too far from here."

Laurel also felt a little like a sloppy second next to Jonathan's errand, annoyed that their coffee date she'd dressed up for was being overshadowed by this viewing. Still, she was keen to spend her break with him, so she went along with it.

"Okay, sure, let me finish my drink and we can head over," said Laurel. She gulped down the rest of her latte, wiped her face with a napkin, and quickly reapplied her lipstick, puckering her lips. "That colour suits you," Jonathan said, clearing their mugs from the table. She tried not to show how pleased she was by his comment, replying with a short and bashful "thanks" as she put on her jacket.

The 10-minute walk to Jonathan's apartment was filled with their usual flirty banter. It may have been boring conversation from the outside, but any subject is exciting when you're talking to your crush. Laurel was raving about a new Italian joint that had opened up near her place; Jonathan was explaining how excited he was to have bought a digital subscription to the New York Times, and Laurel teased him about reaching his 10-article reading limit. She was suddenly happy to tag along with him on this errand.

When they arrived at the building, Jonathan checked his phone to see if the prospective tenant had contacted him. "Fuck, they cancelled," he said, "excuse my language." Laurel was secretly happy. She didn't feel up for having an awkward transaction with a random stranger today. She just wanted time with Jonathan. "Well, did you want to come inside anyway? I'll show you the place," he offered.

Laurel checked the time and obliged. She still had some time before she had to get back to the office. They walked through the doors of the strata. In the mirrored elevator up to the 8th floor, Laurel got a look at herself and primped her ponytail. "I hate fly away hairs," she said, and Jonathan shrugged and nodded politely. Laurel felt his eyes on her back and hoped this gave him nice view of the outline of her ass through her dress.

Laurel followed Jonathan down the 8th floor hallway, passing door after door and turning a few corners until they finally reached apartment 811. Jonathan unlocked the door to his unit to reveal a very minimally-furnished, bright 1-bedroom apartment with a south-facing balcony that overlooked a quiet side street.

"Wow, this is pleasant," Laurel said, plopping down on a sunspot the couch, "you get so much sun!" Jonathan watched Laurel lean back, close her eyes, and take in a big breath. He had a hard time looking away from the sight of her chest rising and falling, the way her dress fit her body, and the way the light took to her smooth skin. "Who wouldn't want to live here? I'll take it!"

"Yeah, and we keep the rent cheap. As long as they take care of the place," he said. "Our last tenant was a lovely girl from Brazil." Jonathan didn't think twice when he grabbed a seat beside Laurel on the couch. She was at a loss for words as their eyes met. "Oh, pardon my manners. Can I get you some water or something?"

Laurel giggled at the fact that he was trying to be hospitable in his empty apartment, and she couldn't help but notice how close they were sitting. It was making her nipples hard and her clit pulse. She'd dreamed and fantasized about moments like this for a long time, where she would be alone and so physically close to Jonathan. Now that they were together in his sunlit apartment, she thought about how she wanted to play her cards, feeling the magnetic pull of her attraction to him. She crossed a leg towards him, a non-verbal signal that simply screamed "fuck me."

"No thanks, Jonathan. I'll manage without water, but can you do me a favour? My neck has been so stiff lately. Would you massage it for me? I can massage it myself, but it's never the same as when someone else does it." Laurel looked at Jonathan innocently as she made her request. She knew her intentions were far from pure, but her neck really was sore.

Jonathan jerked at her question, surprised. He hoped his face didn't show his delight or his surprise. Was she coming onto him? He'd noticed the way her body language had changed from the café. She was a beautiful girl, and the thought had crossed his mind from time to time, but he'd always remained faithful to his wife. He had never really touched Laurel beyond a hug or affectionately touching her shoulder. This was new territory for them both.

"Sure, Laurel, I'm not very good at massages, but I can try." Jonathan couldn't believe what he had just agreed to, but who was he kidding? He'd marvelled at the shape of her breasts, and more. Anyone with eyes would. Laurel was beyond average. Her small frame carried such a lovely plump ass and tits. She had the face and lips of an angel. There she was in the afternoon light, sitting in front of him, wearing a gorgeous dress that revealed just enough skin to make the mind wander. The young bachelor in him just couldn't resist.

Laurel turned away from him and tied her hair into a messy bun on top of her head. Jonathan could smell her floral perfume as she lifted her hair from the massage zone. "I'm really stiff right around here," she gestured at the side of her neck, just above her collar bone. Jonathan gulped and placed his hands rest along her shoulders. He began pressing his fingertips and thumbs gently over the sides and back of her neck. Jonathan knew very little about massages, but he could feel where Laurel needed to loosen up. "Your neck IS stiff," he said, chuckling. "How am I doing?"

"Jonathan, that feels so nice. Feel free to press," Laurel let out a sigh just as the word "harder" left her mouth. "Right there, Jonathan, thank you." She started to relax. Jonathan tightened his grip on her shoulders and pressed down harder on the right side of her neck. Laurel shuddered and closed her eyes. "Jonathan, that feels amazing, mmm." She didn't hold back with her reactions. After all, she'd moaned these things to herself in private, several times. Now here he was, privy to the way she sounded while being pleasured, under the guise of an innocent neck massage.

Jonathan felt his cock hardening at the sensation of touching Laurel's supple skin and feeling her softening shoulders under his fingertips. He couldn't ignore how beautiful the curve of her back looked, and he especially could not ignore the sound of her enjoying his touch. What was happening? He'd enjoyed their subtle flirtations before, but never thought anything that was ever exchanged would come to this. Laurel's skin looked golden in the sunlight, the apartment was heating up, and Jonathan's heart raced. "Fuck it," he thought. He leaned down to whisper in Laurel's ear, "how's that, Laurel? Do you like it?"

"Yes, Jonathan, you don't know what you're talking about when you say you're not very good at this. Thank you so much." Laurel was breathless and speaking in a sleepy, subdued tone. She'd forgotten where she was, and she felt her pussy start to drip just from being so close to Jonathan. His hands felt so strong and warm, though slightly callused. Her neck felt hot under his palms. Her eyes were closed, her head was tilted slightly, and she could feel how close up he was. She felt Jonathan's breath near her neck and ear as he spoke, still rubbing. Laurel opened her eyes to find their faces close to one another. She looked Jonathan straight in the eye and asked, "how does it feel for you?"

"Well, Laurel, if you really must know, between the way you're responding to my massage and how nice you look in the sunlight right now, I'm starting to get the urge to kiss you." Jonathan couldn't believe what had overcome him. He felt the words spilling out of his mouth, and they could not be unsaid. Like toothpaste out of a tube. He'd been married 10 years, only to find himself alone with Laurel, in his rental apartment, asking her for a kiss. He couldn't resist her rosy cheeks and plump lips and the way they shimmered in the light. She was so young, magnificent, and present. Laurel turned her head, and then her body, and their lips locked for the first time.

Laurel loved the feeling of Jonathan's stubble as she pressed her lips against his. She stopped, rested her hands on his shoulders, and said, "Jonathan, you don't know how many times, and for how long, I've thought about this."

"Thought about what?" he asked.

"Well, kissing you, touching you..." Laurel grazed her fingers along the side of his suit jacket. "I've imagined being physical with you for a long time, Jon. I was only half-joking when I'd said I'd gotten dolled up just for you."

Jonathan felt his body tingling as he went in to kiss Laurel, hearing her moan as their lips met again. It was such a novel feeling for him to be with anyone who wasn't his wife. His cock was rock solid. He can't remember the last time he'd kissed anyone else. "Oh god, Laurel, your lips taste so sweet," he remarked. Jonathan didn't recognize himself. Laurel had awakened a sleeping monster—and he knew he needed to have her.

They continued to kiss and embrace; hands, tongues, teeth, and lips doing a warm, tense, arousing dance. Laurel felt her pussy dripping more with every kiss. Their noises started to crescendo in unison. Laurel exhaled into Jonathan's mouth while pressing her heavy C cups against his body. She had his head between her hands. Jonathan had wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling the curve of her body, hand sliding from her waist and all along the side of her hips.

Laurel seized the moment and climbed on top of Jonathan. She felt so natural straddling him and giving him deep kisses. Jonathan surrendered completely. He needed Laurel. He could feel cock ooze with pre-cum as he opened his mouth to receive her tongue. He was so overcome by her entire essence, her smell, her arousal, and the feeling of her weight on his lap. He grabbed her ass with one hand, and cupped her very juicy breast through her dress with another. His hands were full of her plump round parts. "Laurel, god, your breasts are so lovely," Laurel kissed his neck as he squeezed her ass, "and you have such a round ass." He groaned and rubbed both of her ass cheeks through her dress.

"Yes Jonathan, tell me what else you like about me," she teased, wiggling her hips on top of his. Laurel was surprised by this confident version of herself that was beginning to emerge, and was dying to feel if she had made him hard.

"Well," he said, letting go of her body for a brief moment to take off his suit jacket. "I like the way you kiss me." He started to unbutton her dress. "And I like the way this dress hugs your waist," he said, gripping her curves. Her skin felt soft and so balmy against his touch. He admired the artwork that was her body and the way it looked in her black lace bra. Somehow, he'd predicted that her lingerie would be as tasteful as the other things she liked. Laurel sat up to catch her breath, panting as her full chest and stomach were suddenly exposed. She freed her arms from the dress, and Jonathan took in how stunning her body looked.

Jonathan pulled Laurel's face back in towards him for a kiss. She wriggled out of her dress, letting it drop to the floor. All that was between them was her pantyhose and underwear. Laurel felt so bare sitting on Jonathan's lap, half-naked while he was still fully clothed. She reached down to undo Jonathan's belt buckle and unzipped his pants, and he had no objections to what she was doing to him. They cooperated to get his pants and shirt off and continued their almost reprehensible make out.