Rules

We were supposed to be staying away from one another. I had broken the rules, you see. After six months of an affair with a man in an open marriage, I let him tear down the wall that had been my defense against romance for so long. I fell in love. My mistake. But it was his wife who decided the affair was too hot for it to fit inside the rules of their game. She demanded an abrupt end for him and me, and he acquiesced.

So we ended. After a long, tearful goodbye phone call and an entire bottle of wine, I felt empty. I thought this was actually a relationship that could last. Ridiculous, I know. But in the beginning, his wife had called me and given me permission to have him; she was planning to leave him, so I was welcome to him when she left in a few months. I was a little shocked at the time, listening to her rules: we were to do nothing in public, there should be no embarrassment for her, and their children should never know.

I wasn't really looking for a relationship, so these were easy rules for me, and I took her at her word. This was my first mistake. My second mistake was letting down my guard, letting him inside the wall I had built to keep others out. I loved him. And, now, she had changed her mind; it had to be over. I couldn't make sense of it. Why change the rules now? But he felt he needed to try to save his marriage, so there were no more phone calls, no more emails, no more chatting in the evenings online. No more sexy afternoon trysts during lunch hours. Instead there was utter silence and estrangement as we tried to abide by her new rules.

The distance between us was broken only by the committee meetings at work when we sat across conference tables from one another, valiantly trying to follow the discussion about budgets and policies. It was torture. I stole glances at him to see if he was watching me. When our eyes would meet, the tension was too great and our lines of vision would scatter around the room. I left quickly after each meeting; I couldn't bear the silence between us. I sometimes wondered what our colleagues at the meetings thought. There was a definite change in the interactions between the two of us, and I know I was less engaged in what business was happening.

I drove myself crazy over those few weeks apart, wondering about his thoughts: Was he thinking about me? About the last time he kissed me and used those lips on me to make me come? About the way he would watch me while he was inside me, waiting for me to look at him while I came? I had no idea what he thought. I just knew I was to stay away and keep the silence; those were the new rules we followed.

Until the day he called. Truly, it was a call about a business issue, but he could have called someone else. "How are you?" he asked.

"Not the best," I answered. He knew how I felt, knew I had allowed him inside my wall. I didn't want to punish him, but I didn't want to hurt all alone either. A long silence dragged on across the phone line. He got to the point of his call, and I gave him the information he needed, but I didn't want him to hang up. Maybe he didn't want to either; it was always disconcerting that I could never tell what he was feeling. So I told him my truth. "I miss you."

After a sigh, he said, "I know. I miss you, but it can't be helped." I knew his reasons, all of them good and just and so damn noble. How do you argue with noble? "I'm sorry," he said, his misery of being stuck between two women in his voice. God, how I wished he'd stop with the "sorry" mantra. I got it. And I didn't.

"How are things?" I asked, not really expecting him to tell me and not really sure I wanted to know. What I really wanted is for them to be miserable. Terrible. But that was my selfishness rearing its ugly head. So, I waited for him to find the words to tell me, bracing myself to hear how things were wonderful.

"Okay. Not great. Not terrible. The temperature in the house is normal, but there is no connection, no sharing, no touching." I wanted to shout, "Hallelujah!" But instead I found myself telling him I was sorry for that. He said, "I do miss our times together." I didn't answer that, and I told him I had to go. I would not let him hear me cry.

~~~

Two days later we have the first of 10 showcases to be held over the next month, and each department must attend to talk to potential clients about what we can offer them. I know he will be there setting up his presentation equipment. I don't have to do any set-up to speak of, so I wonder if I should stick my head in the door of the room he will be in to just say hello. What can it hurt? It's just hello, right? I answer my own questions by opening the door to his room a full 45 minutes before clients will arrive.

"Hi." Great opening line after not seeing him for six weeks. He doesn't look surprised to see me; he knows me far too well.

"Hi." Our eyes lock on one another for a few seconds. I think I can actually see the electricity in the air, but maybe that is just wishful thinking. "I wondered if you would come by to see me."

"It's not the smartest thing I've ever done, but I wanted to say hello." No. What I wanted to do was lock the door, kiss him, make him want me, feel his hands on my breasts. I stand there in the back of the room watching him set up. He asks me to sit down, so I sit in a chair against the back wall. I wait for him to say something, anything. Maybe he'll just ask me to leave. He completes his task and walks towards me. He turns a chair around so he is facing me and sits just out of reach. We look at each other in silence. "How are you?" I ask.

"Fine." The silence is uncomfortable for the first time ever between us. "I hoped you would come here." What do I say to that? Remember the rules: no talking, no email, no chats, no contact. But, you know, I didn't make those rules.

I said, "I'm glad you called the other day. I miss hearing your voice. ...I hate this, you know." He just looks away. "So, are things going well?" Aye yi yi -- I'm being so inane. But he tells me much of the same things he has said before. He has to try, he needs to feel he is giving her a fair shake, he needs to be there for his children, and on and on it goes. Eventually, he just stops talking and looks at me. I just look back.

I pretend to look at the time and stand up to make an exit as if I need to be somewhere. Suddenly, he stands up and in two steps reaches me as I back into the wall. He places his hands on the wall on either side of my head and pushes against me. He has me locked against the wall with his body as he just looks at me. He says, "This is a bad idea," and he leans down to kiss me. I want to put up my hands, stop him from breaking through the crumbly wall I have been trying to rebuild after he left. But I find myself kissing him back.

He leaned his body into mine, pinning me against the wall. I love the way his body presses against me, and I can feel his desire build. My hands go to his sides and then around him to pull him closer. He pulls his mouth from mine to look at me, and both of us are breathing a bit harder. His hand moves to my breast and begins to touch me the way I like, but then he stops, asking with his eyes if I want him to stop. I answer by leaning in to kiss him again.

Oh, how I have missed his hands on me. He begins to unbutton my blouse to get access to skin. I have his shirt fisted into my hands, yearning for his touch. The first feel of his skin on my breast is exquisite. He runs his fingers over my nipple, watching my face for the response he can feel in his hands. He pulls my bra out of the way and covers my nipple with his mouth. His tongue sucks on the hard tip, causing ripples to extend down my body where I feel it deep in my pussy. I feel myself grow wet as he squeezes my breasts and entertains my nipples with his tongue.

Oh, how I want this. I move my hands down and grab his ass, pulling us hip to hip. He puts his hands on either side of my head, holding my face as he kisses me, his tongue ravishing my mouth. I move my hand to the front of his trousers where I rub my hand over the proof of his wanting. I hear a groan escape from his throat, so I wrap my hand around his cock and squeeze. He pulls his head back from me and looks into my eyes.

"We really shouldn't be doing this, especially here," he says. I nod since I'm not sure my voice will work. I continue to massage him and watch his eyes grow darker. He glances at the clock, and then walks away from me but only far enough to lock the door. I smile at him, and while he watches, I remove my panties. He smiles back at me as I lean against the wall waiting to see what he has in mind. He moves a chair to the corner of the room adjacent to the door. No one who looks in the window will see anything. He holds his hand out to me, and I go to him. He kisses me again, and I smile against his mouth.

"How are we going to do this?" I ask.

"Quietly," he says. I laugh at that, knowing how difficult that can be for me. He kisses me again, and both of our hands begin un-belting and unbuttoning his pants. As he lowers them, I fall to my knees to take him in my mouth. Oh, how I love the groan he makes as I take his cock into my mouth. I love to feel him grow harder and harder against my tongue. "I could let you do that all day," he says, "but we don't have the time right now."

He pulls my head away from him and sits on the chair. I want to feel him inside me, so I stand to straddle him. Slowly, I lower myself onto his cock. Oh, how wonderful it feels to have him inside me. For a moment we just look at each other, knowing the risk we are taking but not caring. I begin to slide my hips back and forth, taking my pleasure from him. His hands go to my breasts, and he runs his thumbs over my nipples. I gasp and moan, so he covers my mouth with his. "Quietly, remember?" he asks against my lips.

I nod and look into his eyes as I begin to move faster. His cock is so hard, and I am so wet. It doesn't take long until I know I'm close. "I'm going to come for you, Baby," I tell him. I start to close my eyes, and he says, "Look at me." I am staring into his eyes as I come. I'm breathing so fast now. He smiles at me, and I move in to kiss him hard. I love feeling his tongue in my mouth. I can't kiss him for long because I can't catch my breath. He grabs my ass with his hands and pulls me towards him hard several times, and then says, "My turn." He pulls my pussy snug against him, and I feel his cock jump inside me. He empties himself inside me, while I kiss him.

We sit, joined together, for a few minutes, my forehead against his. We know we have to pull ourselves together; we each have clients to see in just a few minutes. I stand up and find my panties. We each take a few minutes to pull ourselves together. It's quiet as he moves the chair back into the row with the others, the room straight again, as if nothing happened. I think the room is the only thing that seems as if nothing happened. "You know we broke all the rules," I say to his back. My voice shakes. I'm afraid the rules will be back, and that I will lose him again to the silence.

He turns and looks at me. A smile softens his face. "I was never one for rules anyway."