One Night

Written for and dedicated to E. Thank you for letting me publish this. Enjoy!

ONE NIGHT

I checked my phone for the twentieth time in ten minutes. Nothing. I twisted the stem of my wine glass between my fingers as I sat at the end of the bar, very obviously on my own. A noisy group entered, grabbing a couple of sofas and sorting themselves out while one man checked drinks requests. He separated himself from the rest of the group and stood next to me at the bar, throwing me an easy smile. He placed the order and then saw me glance at my phone.

'Someone running late?' he asked.

'Or not running at all. How late's too late?'

'How late is he?'

'Half an hour.'

He winced. 'And no text?' I shook my head. 'He's a feckin' eejit then.'

I laughed. One of the girls came up and started ferrying drinks back to the table. As he handed them to her, I got a better view of him. Around six foot, slim, but toned. Floppy hair that just curled onto his shoulders, a neatly trimmed beard. Very presentable.

He turned back to the bar, pushing up the sleeves of his top to over his biceps, a gesture that looked more out of habit than vanity, although it did help to emphasise the muscles. 'Here, let me get you a drink.'

'Oh great, the sympathy drink from the kindly stranger,' but I said it with a smile.

'I like the kindly stranger bit. What are you drinking?'

'Dry white wine, please,' I said as the barman placed the final Guinness in front of him.

'Small or large?'

'She'll have a large.'

'Oh? Trying to get me drunk, are you?'

'Merely ease the pain.'

'Of rejection? Gee thanks.'

He clinked his glass with mine and we exchanged names.

'You celebrating something?' I asked, nodding over to the rest of the group.

'End of shooting a music video.'

'So this is the wrap party?'

'Well, that's probably a bit of an overstatement. Just drinks and then we'll decide to get something to eat . . . eventually . . . and too late.'

'Musician then?' I asked.

'No, I was directing. Those guys over there are the real talent, and the girl on the end, she was singing.'

They caught me looking over at them and I waved and mouthed an embarrassed "Hi". They waved back, grinning.

'So you're the bossy one then?'

'Ha! Me? No. Couldn't get them to do a thing I wanted. They'll have to sort it out in the edit. So what do you do?'

'Apart from get stood up, you mean? Ah, he was only a friend of a friend. I was doing her a favour, really.'

'I told you. Feckin' eejit.'

'That's the worst Irish accent I've ever heard.'

'But I'm Irish!' he protested, pouting.

'That's what makes it doubly bad.'

It was getting busy at the bar and we were pushed closer together by the people waiting. It was also noisier so we were having to talk almost directly into each other's ear. His breath was warm on my cheek, gently scented with Guinness, with an underlying hint of zesty cologne as he leaned his hand on my shoulder as we spoke. He was funny, making me laugh but interested in what I was saying, and I was enjoying the verbal sparring.

It was difficult to meet his eye as the contact was so intense it was almost burning. I hope he didn't think I was avoiding it. But as he was once more pushed against me and his hand slid across my shoulder to keep his balance, looking up at him, I couldn't look away. He ran his tongue across the underneath of his top lip. It was a very sensuous movement, leaving his lip glistening and eminently kissable. My lips involuntarily parted and I angled my face up towards his. It had the desired effect as suddenly our lips were meeting. I stood, pushing back the stool in order to kiss him properly, my hands resting lightly on his chest as our mouths moved together, my focus on our lips, our hands resting only lightly on each other, but electricity filtering through my fingertips and where his touched me.

'We have to get out of here,' he said. I nodded my agreement, knowing what else I was agreeing to. 'Your place or . . .?'

'Mine.'

As he escorted me from the bar, his hand stroked from the small of my back to the curve of my bottom. Once outside the bar, I pulled him towards me and he pressed me against the wall, one arm around me to cushion me, and we kissed for what seemed a lifetime. I could feel his hardness pressing against me and I made the smallest of circular movements back against it.

I felt his breath catch and he pulled back from me, eyes roving my face.

'I need to get you home, don't I?' I whispered. 'Come on. We can walk.'

'I'm not sure I can.'

We walked, after a fashion, stopping to kiss every few yards until we finally climbed the steps to my flat and tumbled in through the door.

'Christ, I want you,' he said as soon as the door was shut.

I grabbed his wrist and led him directly to the bedroom. This simply would not wait. He obviously felt the same as he stripped off his top, removed his trainers and socks, and loosened his belt so that his jeans pooled around his ankles and he kicked them away. I was still hopping round trying to remove my boots as he stood there just in his underwear. Christ, he was fit. The sidelights I'd switched on were reflecting off his toned torso as he stood there, watching me.

'Hey, come here.'

Miraculously, he managed to slow the pace, turning me away from him so he could undo the tie of my top, slipping it from my shoulders and then unzipping my skirt and letting it slide sensuously over my hips to the floor. His hands followed it, his fingers catching in the tops of my stockings before sliding back up to unfasten my bra. All the time he was whispering flattering sensuous words to me. I wasn't listening to exactly what he said as my mind was in a whirl, but he encouraged me back onto the bed and rolled down my stockings, kissing down my legs as he removed them until I was lying back on the bed in just my knickers.

'That's better,' he said, kneeling astride me and looking down, his erection still obvious in his shorts. He dropped onto his forearms, his elbows either side of me, and kissed me again, slowly at first, the pace and firmness increasing. I could feel his erection pressing against me, hard on my pubis, the feeling exaggerated somehow by our underwear. His lips left mine and he kissed down the side of my neck and along my collar bone and then traced a path between my breasts. He paused and I realised I was holding my breath, waiting for his next move. I could feel his hot breath, but as he drew back it left a chill on my skin.

'Christ, you taste good,' he murmured, adjusted position and began to focus on my right breast, gently squeezing it as he licked and tugged at my nipple. I wasn't normally this passive, but he was swamping my senses and I felt unable to take control of, well, anything. He swapped breasts, leaving one hand to fondle as all I could do was make tiny mewling gasps and stretch luxuriously under his ministrations, my fingers curling around the rails of the headboard, the metal wonderfully cold against my hot skin.

If he carried on using his tongue in the same way, then I was in for a very enjoyable night. He did. I was. He slid his hands down over my waist as he kissed down over my stomach and then to between my legs. It was heaven, his focus was so intense that all I could do was tighten my grip on the headboard rails.

'I, oh . . . Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!' I couldn't help it. I didn't want him to stop but the intensity was so strong that as my orgasm flooded through me and I wantonly pushed myself against his face, wanting to feel pressure against me. 'Oh God,' I muttered and finally, 'Oh dear God.'

When I managed to open my eyes, it was to see him watching me, smiling. 'You OK sweetheart?'

'No . . . I . . . oh God.'

'Enough?'

'Oh God no. Anyway, you haven't . . .'

'I know.'

He left the bed and loped across the room to his trousers, loose-limbed and vulpine, and took out his wallet from his jeans pocket. He removed a foil packet and returned to the bed, tearing it open with his teeth. He gripped the tip and then rolled it down over his penis, occasionally flicking his hair back from his face. And then his concentration was back on me and he smiled, leaned forward and kissed me again as his cock pushed between my legs.

I parted them and he slid sweetly into me, I was so wet, so aroused.

'Christ you're beautiful,' he said as he began to move into me, incredibly slowly at first, gradually increasing the pace, supporting himself easily on his hands. I was biting my lip, allowing the emotions to flood through me as I looked up at him, his hair moving in time with his thrusting.

I lifted my knees a little higher and he responded by hooking his arms under them and lifting my legs onto his shoulders, and then pressing down on my thighs. Whereas before his thrusting had resulted in gentle movements within me, now shockwaves exploded inside me and every thrust had me gasping. I flung my arms above my head and grasped hold of the metal bars, using them to halt my progression up the bed.

I was sure he could feel the moment my orgasm was triggered as all my muscles tensed and it wasn't long before I heard more staccato grunts and then the long, slow groan of release.

He whistled a long breath as he dropped his head and his hair flopped forward, tickling my skin. He carefully withdrew and then straightened, stretching.

'Wow,' he said. 'That was worth waiting for.'

'You waited?'

He snorted a laugh and then flopped down onto his back next to me. He picked up my hand and kissed my fingers and then nibbled them.

'Hungry?' I asked.

'Definitely peckish. What have you got?'

'Sweet or savoury?'

'I've had savoury,' he grinned.

'Erm, fruit salad?'

'Tinned?'

'Hell no,' I said, tutting. 'Cream, ice cream?'

'Naked for me,' he said.

'Should have guessed that. Drink?'

Just water. Sparkling if you have it.'

Grabbing my robe, I visited the bathroom first and then heard him go in as I served up some fruit salad. He was sitting back on the bed, propped up against the headboard with a pillow behind him when I returned. He accepted the bowl and perused the contents.

'Nice.' He picked out a strawberry and angled it towards my mouth. I accepted it between my teeth and bit into it, the sweet-sour juice bursting onto my tongue. 'This is good,' he said, picking out the individual pieces of fruit to savour each flavour separately.

'Thank you.'

'This is REALLY good.'

'Stop sounding so surprised!'

'Sorry.' He held up a piece of kiwi fruit and smiled at it before eating it. 'For the first time probably ever, I shall be getting my five a day.'

'Fruit and veg?'

He did an obvious double take as he saw me grinning. 'What time is it? I've got some catching up to do.'

He wasn't joking either as he put down his bowl and turned my face back towards me to kiss me. He tugged at my robe, and then slid it off my shoulder, pulling me down the bed with him so that we were lying on our sides facing each other. His hand was stroking over my shoulder, down my arm, onto my hip and then back up along my body, his fingers exploring the curves he was finding.

They came to rest on my breast and he started to push me back, but that wasn't what I wanted and I resisted, instead, pushing at his hip. He accepted this and rolled onto his back pulling my leg over him so that I was lying on top of him.

I sat up, eyes tracing down his body, taking in the chain hanging around his neck with the ring and what looked like an Egyptian icon, the fine tracing of chest hair, the toned muscles, the curve of ribs under lightly tanned skin. And tonight it was all mine.

He placed his hands behind his head. 'You know, I could lie here and stare at your breasts all night,' he said. 'They are rather perfect.' I leaned forward, placing my hands lightly on his chest, deliberately squeezing them together to tease him. 'Perfect? That's a bit of an exaggeration.'

'I don't think so.'

I sat back up straight and began to make the slightest of circular movements with my hips. I could feel him respond under me and his expression went from relaxation to interest to surprise to slight concern.

'Wait!' he said urgently. 'I need to be inside you.'

I reached over to the drawer of the bedside cabinet and withdrew a packet, flicking the foil onto the floor and then carefully sheathing him. It was good to finally get my hands on his penis, to feel its hardness, smoothness and strength between my fingers. But he was right, he did need to be inside me. I needed him to be inside me.

I knelt up and guided him into me, savouring controlling those first delicious moments as he slid easily into me. I was so wet I had to control my muscles to resist his entry, but feeling him sliding into me was so fantastic that I wanted to relish every second of him. Once I had taken the length of him into me, the rest was just divine, with me controlling both the depth and frequency of the movements, stretching up to press myself harder onto him. He responded, allowing me to control the pace, feeling him sliding gloriously in and out of me until my reaction became purely instinctive and I flung myself forward onto him as I came, emotions flooding through me as I heard him grunt his own coming, pulsing into me with short, hard strokes before he slid his arms around me and held me close against him.

'Oh sweetheart,' he said.

'Mmmm?'

'Sleepy?'

'Comfortably relaxed.' I stretched out next to him and pulled the quilt over us, leaning contentedly against his shoulder. 'You?'

'Mmmm.'

He had turned and was lying on his front, one knee slightly drawn up. I ran my fingers along the length of his spine and followed it with kisses. I scraped a fingernail down the inside of one thigh and then back up the other, and then targeted the skin directly behind his balls, strafing it gently, backwards and forward, slightly longer movements each time.

He sighed, and murmured, 'That's nice.'

And then I sucked my finger and pressed the wet tip gently onto the hollow of his anus, rubbing it with a circular motion as he moaned with surprise and unexpected pleasure. I pressed a little deeper, still circling, and felt his muscles clench and relax against my finger.

'Jesus,' he muttered, and I could see him clutching the quilt between his fingers. His erection was also increasing and he was making the tiniest of movements, rubbing it against the sheet in time to my circling. I probed a little deeper and he released an anguished sigh, increasing his own pace as I kept up and then increased the pressure. 'Jesus,' he muttered again, this time rubbing himself even harder against the bed.

Part of me was regretting that there was a perfectly good erect penis going to waste, but the rest of me was enjoying the total control I was having over him. I plunged my finger further in and he cried out in ecstatic discomfort, pushing himself back against me as he rubbed himself against the bed. I knew he was close to coming as his pace increased, matching the gentle grunting, and I wrapped the fingers of my other hand around his balls, gently squeezing as he rapidly increased his final thrusting, his muscles tensing hard against my finger as he came, finally relaxing as I withdrew it.

'Christ,' he muttered. 'Oh Christ. That was . . .' I crawled up the bed to collapse next to him. 'Christ,' he said again and then flicked a lopsided smile. 'I must be on your side of the bed.'

'Pah! Your mess, you can sleep in it.'

He didn't need to. He curled up against me, his arm around me, his hand resting on my breast, and we fell into a comfortable and totally satisfied sleep.

He padded into the kitchen, comfortable with his nakedness, and stood behind me, pressing himself close. His hands found his way through the opening of my robe so he could caress my breasts.

'Wow, that was something pretty special. But fantastic, as always,' he said, nuzzling my neck.

'You and your date nights,' I muttered as I switched on the kettle. 'Next time, just for once, could YOU be the one that's been stood up?'

He removed his hands while he thought, resting them on my shoulders and then sliding them down my arms, pulling my hands gently behind me.

'Well, we COULD, I suppose,' he began, gripping me a little more tightly by the wrists. 'But no fecker's going to believe THAT, are they?'