Just One Night

You said yes. I can't believe that you actually said yes! We were just having coffees when I told you how lonely and broken I felt, and how you were the one I want to help me to feel again. That was two days ago, and since then I have been a wreck. I want everything to be perfect. I'm staying at the house in Leaside so at least I know that there is privacy, and that it isn't a hotel. That is the last thing I want for this moment. Not some cheap hotel, or even a nice hotel with paper thin walls.

I bought wine, although my picking wine never seems to quite work out the way I hope it does. I ditched out of my afternoon meetings to make sure everything was perfect. This may be our only moment, and if it is I know that I want to remember every detail. The food had to be perfect too, so I had slaved over that for the afternoon, making everything from scratch.

I'd showered a little while ago, my hair still damp. In bare feet with my jeans on, and a sweater thrown over my bare upper body. I had planned on putting on a proper shirt, but that was when the time slipped and when the doorbell rang, you were standing outside.

You'd been to a client earlier in the day, so you had on those black boots you knew I liked, not too high a heel, but yet they did so much for your sexy legs. Knee length skirt, brown, and a black turtleneck. You have one of your scarves around your neck, which I can just see in the open jacket you have on. We greet each other with a smile, and I help you through the door, pulling you into my arms as I shut the door behind you. You feel so good there against me. I lean down thinking of a chaste, lingering kiss on your lips, but as soon as they touch it is like fire. You are returning my kiss with the same intensity, and it quickly becomes a battle of tongues.

We move from the entrance, never leaving each others embrace, you bunching my sweater in your hands as we both shuffle towards the sofa on the opposite wall. I can taste the cinnamon lip gloss, knowing that you've done that because it was something you had asked me for. It was something that I told you I very much enjoyed when we had kissed at Christmas. At the edge of the sofa, I knew when the backs of your calves touched, and I wrapped my arms around you, spinning and pulling you down on top of me as we landed lying on the sofa. I bring my hands up to stroke your hair, and breaking for air, only briefly I say a simple "Hi", and you return it with similar whispered intensity. Then it is our mouths claiming each other again.

At some point, we both had removed our glasses, which was a good thing, because they would certainly have been broken. Your hands slid under my sweater and are running up my chest, and I am struggling to get you to break contact so I can remove your jacket. I slip my mouth away from yours, kissing your cheek, jaw and side of your neck, until I reach your ear. I whisper that I have dinner for us in the kitchen, but you look me in the eyes saying "We have dinner right here." Realizing that we both feel the intensity, desire and need to be fulfilled this night, I slip out to grab the wine and glasses, and to shut off the oven which was keeping the food warm. You lean against the door jam as I work in the kitchen. I don't know that I have ever seen that intensity in your eyes before.

I turn with the wine and the glasses to find you right behind me in the kitchen. It is a small space, barely enough room for the two of us to stand in. "Let me help" you say taking the glasses from me but not before a searing kiss between us. You turn and sway your hips as you lead me back to the other room. Denim never felt as tight as it did in that moment.

You are standing in the middle of the room, your jacket gone but not the scarf, I am staring at your body, thinly hidden from me by the skirt you are wearing, the turtleneck clinging to your upper body almost as a second skin. I move behind you, pressing my arousal against your lower back. Kissing you along the back of your neck, and around to your ear, nipping lightly at the ear lobe. "Did you want to go upstairs or do you like the sofa?"

You turn, wrapping your arms around my neck before giving a little hop and wrapping your legs around me, your frame fitting so well against me, and your heat now pressed against mine. "Let's start here." is what you said, or I think that was what you said. My hands cupping your ass, sliding the skirt up so I am cupping the bare flesh rather than through the fabric. I kiss from your lips to your jaw, and then down your neck and throat, until I encounter the edge of that turtleneck. I know that you must have worn this on purpose, knowing how it would excite and frustrate me at the same time.

I move us back to the sofa, letting you down only to put the glasses and wine on the floor beside us and we collapse onto the sofa, now with me hovering over you. My hands begin moving slowly along your cheek, caressing your neck and collarbone. Then across your shoulder and down your side, skimming across the fullness of your breast, teasingly close to your nipple, but just out of reach. When my hand reaches the waistline of your skirt, I pull up at your top, releasing it from .the confines of the skirt, and pulling it up. Our kissing never stopping during this. I stop for a moment, and move your arms up over your head, allowing me to pull the garment from your body more easily. I look down to see your torso exposed, your breasts captured by the fabric of your bra, a beautiful black bra with lacy trim that I wonder if you have worn for me, or is it just your everyday lingerie?

I want to bring your hands back to my skin, allow you to run your nails on my back, but with your hands over your head, I can't stop myself completely. I find your scarf, and I look into your eyes as I wrap it around your wrists, binding them, but not too tightly. I know you could get out if you wanted to, and hope that you don't yet.

I kiss you again, mouths hungry, but there is so much new exposed flesh that my mouth longs to taste and explore. And explore it does. My hand keeping your wrists above your head, my mouth begins trailing kisses along your throat, collar bone, across the top of your breasts, into the valley of your cleavage, and down across your stomach. On the way back to your lips I also begin to scrape my teeth on your skin, lightly especially when I reach your lace covered breasts, scraping so that I begin to uncover slightly more, the edge of your rosy nipples starting to be exposed.

I keep your hands above your head still with one hand as my other reaches down and runs up the outside of your thigh, where your skirt has become bunched, sliding up the smooth velvet skin. When I reach the roundness of your ass, feeling that you didn't wear stockings, I can feel the edge of the thong at your hip. I drag my hand back down, now more on the top of your thigh rather than the side or bottom. I must be doing something right, because your tied hands come up from over your head to wrap around mine, and I feel your hips rise slightly as I move my hand toward your knee again.

You tell me I am wearing too much clothing. I kneel, my left knee between your thighs and pull the sweater off tossing it across the room. Your hands still tied touch my chest, your fingers circling my nipple as you had hoped my tongue would yours. It brings a throaty growl from me before I take your hands in mine, moving them back above your head, crashing my lips to yours, probing tongues fighting for dominance.

I lean up, bringing my hands now to your lace covered breasts, squeezing them, my thumbs now searching for the peaks below the lace, circling around your hardened nipples. I lean forward, my mouth finding one nipple through the offending fabric, while my hand circles behind to release the hooks holding it in place on your perfect skin. I pull the now loosened fabric away, exposing your excited nipples to the air, immediately grasping each breast and rolling the nipples between my thumb and forefinger, pulling slightly before diving my head and laving each nipple with my tongue. My one free hand now back at your hip.

I can hear your breath shallow and panting, your heartbeat racing like mine. You move your hands again, and this time I feel possessive grasping your wrists, nipping at your bottom lip. I call you my Bad Girl. I untie your hands only to turn you over and tie them behind your back. You are now lying across my lap, your ass exposed by my pushing the skirt up. I can see the matching thong to the bra now. I give you a smack on the ass, telling you to keep your hands in the right place. I can see the redness from where I smacked you already, and gently rub the area, my finger tips close to the cleft of your bottom. My one hand plays with your breast, while the other caresses your ass, until you begin to wiggle, and I spank you again this time on the other cheek, telling you not to move.

I find the zipper on your skirt, moving you to stand with your legs parted slightly, I unzip the skirt to allow it to pool at your feet, then kneeling before you I take the thin strip of thong on each hip and lower them carefully ensuring that they run taught down your thighs. Removing the thong revealing your clean pubic area, not a wisp of hair between your thighs. You now stand before me in only your heeled boots. I lean forward, pushing my tongue between your legs, to taste you for the first time.

I stand again, having teased you just enough, bringing you back to the sofa, now removing the binds on your wrist, but moving you to your hands and knees on the sofa. I begin again with caresses on your buttocks, while also leaning forward to kiss your luscious lips, now allowing you to caress your own breasts, but when you reach towards your core, I spank you again. No I don't want you to touch yourself, or at least not yet. My own hand after the smack, rubs along the crevasse of your buttocks, brushing your outer lips, feeling wetness there. I bring my hand to my mouth ensuring you can see me licking your wetness from my fingers. I bring my hand back then, ensuring that I rub more often to your core than your ass. Kissing and nipping at your ass as I rub and slip a finger along your outer lips. My thumb pressing lightly on your puckered anus. You rock your hips back onto my hand, my finger slipping into you just past the knuckle. I hear you sigh in contentment.

I ask if this is what you want? Me to finger you, sliding in and out of your wetness. You growl out that you want more than my fingers, your own hand sliding down to find the bundle of nerves. I respond by sliding my finger in deeper, and telling you I want the same.

You decide that again I am wearing too much, and taking control, push me back by my chest until I am now sitting on the sofa, and you are knelt between my legs. You run your hand up my thigh, feeling my hard cock under the denim fabric. I gasp as you generate friction, rubbing me through the denim. You reach up loosening my belt, then popping the button and pulling the zipper down on my jeans before coaxing me to lift my hips before pulling them and my boxers to my feet. The cold air on my hard cock almost painful. You grasp me in your hand, your other coming to cup my balls. You lightly stroke me, a small bead of pre-cum gathering at the tip. Your thumb rubbing that droplet into the head, before you lift your thumb to your mouth licking the pad. It is one of the sexist things I've ever seen.

I watch as you lean forward, licking my shaft from bottom to top, before rolling your tongue around the head. You look up into my eyes then engulf my shaft as far as you can. Your velvet mouth feeling incredible. You then start a long slow process of teasing, massaging and bringing me close to the edge, but never too close. At some point during this we have shifted positions so that I am again using my hand to rub your wetness, my thumb resting again on your tight anus.

I don't want to loose myself, so I stop your wonderful tongue, telling you that if you don't stop you would end up with me falling asleep and be rather unsatisfied. At least you laughed at that. I pulled you back to the sofa, laying you back and lowering myself between your legs. Even if I was only good for one or two rounds for the whole night, didn't mean that you couldn't have more enjoyment.

With that I kiss from your navel down, past that bare mound until I reach your core. I roll my tongue around the outer lips, tasting the wetness already gathered. We have both worked ourselves into a good frenzy. I lap at the wetness before softly probing my tongue between the outer lips, laying it flat, looking for your clit. I run my tongue up until I feel you twitch as I meet that sensitive spot. I take a few long swirls with my tongue rolling it before licking it with the tip of my tongue. Teasing I then moved lower pushing my tongue into you, and rolling it around before making the trip back to the top and starting again. Roll, flick, plunge, roll, flick, plunge. My hands busy between rubbing your breasts and gripping your butt cheeks.

With your hands now free, you are encouraging me, grabbing my head and keeping me in place when I do something right, and your voice is like music to my ears as you moan in pleasure. Too soon I feel your body stiffen and begin to spasm as your orgasm washes over you. Not to be denied, I slip my hand around and probe you, sliding a finger into you with slight upward pressure, looking for your G-spot. You help me by tilting your pelvis shifting to give me access. By now we are both covered in a sheen of sweat, as I work you toward another orgasm.

Before we can reach that point, we both need a break, my technique just not enough. We agree to take the wine upstairs to the bedroom where you will teach me how to touch you. How to love you. Leaving the clothes where they are, I let you lead me up the stairs and into the master bedroom, the king-size bed waiting for us.

The room lamps are turned down, candles on the dressers to give a soft glow. As I open the wine, you light the candles. We embrace each other, no odd feelings being naked together, and take a sip of the wine. You seem to approve of the wine so I guess I did okay for once. We set the wine down after half a glass and crawl onto the bed together. Both of us on our knees, facing each other.

We re-start things with an exercise we both remember from theater class, the mirror, except the difference this time being not just mirror your partner, but coming as close as possible to touching without actually touching. Both of us can feel the heat from our closely pressed bodies, anticipation building at least for me knowing that building the desire like this will make the actual meeting of our two bodies even more exhilarating.

We play at this only for maybe five minutes before neither of us can handle much more, and I push the envelope touching you as I force you back, before you grab me by the neck, pulling my face to your chest, my mouth quickly beginning to work your breasts. Your hands moving to my back, raking my back from shoulders to my ass. I hope that you leave marks because I want to be marked. I want to be yours.

Your hand moves between us, finding me, stroking me ready for us to join. You tell me you want me inside you, and that teaching can come later. I lift my face, looking into your eyes before moving up and kissing your mouth hard. Reaching over to the side table, we both realize that a condom is necessary between us. You select one and help me to put it on, before leaning back and guiding me to your hot and wet ready entrance.

At some point, likely during the drinking of the wine, your boots were removed, you pulled me to you and laying back, guide me to your entrance, before locking your ankles behind me, drawing me in. I edged your opening before sliding slowly in, allowing you to expand around me before moving. In only a few strokes I am buried in you to the hilt, you telling me how full I am making you feel. It doesn't take long for us to develop a rhythm, your hips rising to each thrust. Moments later you push to the side rolling on top, beginning to thrust and take control of the angle and depth of motion. You rock, while rolling your hips, your hot liquid coating my cock, making the joining very slick.

You look at me and I know what you are asking with your eyes, and I nod my head. You rise up, off of me, grasping my covered shaft before slipping it back slightly, bushing my very wet, coated cock and sliding it carefully not into your core, but into your ass. The tightness is incredible as I can feel the anal muscles flexing as you get accustomed to having me inside. My hands holding your hips as you rock and grind against me, me stretching you open. One of your hands slips to your clit, strumming yourself as you slide up and down taking me into your ass. I tell you that watching you do this was bringing me close, that I can't last much longer, and I guess that is all you needed to hear. You come down hard, taking me all the way in, my balls now resting against your ass as you lean back, shoving two fingers into yourself and you cum, your shaking orgasm milking me, my own white sticky seed filling the condom.

We don't rest there for long because it is not so comfortable for you, and I withdraw, amazed at what we had accomplished together. I slowly removed the condom, disposing of it. We both lay back then, pulling a light sheet and blanket up over us. We reach for the wine, sipping and enjoying. We sleep for only a short time, both of us knowing that you can't stay. I awake to find you taking me in your mouth, telling me that you want me this way. You work me quickly, and surprisingly I can't hold back long. You mouth working me, your hand pumping me, and cupping me. I quickly spray your mouth, and you make sure not to loose a drop. You smile at me, kissing me before we both head downstairs, you to get dressed, and me saddened that you will soon be leaving. I find a pair of track pants and pull them on.

By the time I make it downstairs, and start to gather your things, you are also coming down from the washroom. Your face looks fresh, your makeup re-done and your hair fixed. I help you to get dressed, taking extra time to 'help' put your boots back on, massaging your feet, telling you how I want you to stay, and both of us knowing that you can't. Not today, and maybe never.

As we stand at the door, you dressed completely as you were when you entered, you press a long lingering kiss to my lips. I taste your cinnamon lip gloss. I know that you wore it for me. I watch you step away into the night, going home to where you are needed. I move back into the now empty house, my house that I only use when in town. I move to the kitchen open the fridge and get myself something to eat. I settle into the table, looking across at the seat I wished you would fill, and think back on the last few hours. I smile and finish my sandwich, then move into the kitchen to clean up the dishes.