The Grey and the Colour

Authors note: This is a sequel to THE GREY AND THE COLOUR published on May 21st 2021. Although a complete short story in its own right, I felt a desire to explore the development of their relationship and so Part 2 continues on the journey of the young train travellers. I recommend reading the first part to familiarize ones self with the main characters in the story and how they met.

Enjoy!

*****

Her breasts bounced wildly, erotically, her loose shirt not providing much in the way of concealment from the tired eyes of the grey sea of people, as she raced thorough them towards the station exit!

She didn't care! She had met her man! Not just met him, but kissed him! And touched him!

Touched him in a very exciting manner too, now having a taste of his potential! And that potential was impressive she mused, her bottom testifying not just to the size of his cock, but, due to its apparent lack of constraint inside his trousers, the likelihood of either a complete lack of underwear, just the thought of which made her heart race, or at the very least, sexy boxer shorts!

In her minds eye they were black satin and she anticipated the moment when she had the chance to pull them slowly down his hips to expose that delicious dick of his!

She rebuttoned her shirt, so her tits were decently covered, just.

It was now 8.55am and she made her way across the pedestrian crossing, when the green man granted her his permission, towards the cafe.

She hadn't realised her breast was naked when she met him.

She was in such a determined mood to move through the grey sea of passengers in the carriage, to finally stand in front of 'him' that she was unaware a button had popped open.

She didn't mind!

There was much more of her body she wished him to see, much more of her body she wanted him to explore and she looked forward to those opportunities with sensual glee!

The cafe belonged to her uncle, her late fathers brother.

He started the business 7 years ago, after running a similar cafe from a shop four miles away in the suburbs. It was in a busy shopping strip and business boomed, the quality of his coffee and delicious pastries, cakes and lunches and friendly service translating into sizable profits which enabled him to relocate to the city centre.

She stepped inside at 8.59 and greeted Felice, her uncle, giving him a peck on his cheek. He smiled warmly at her. To him, she was like a daughter. His brothers premature death providing him with the opportunity to take her under his wing.

Family ties are strong. Blood is thick.

The family knew she needed guidance, for she was a force of nature, a 'tour de force' some might say on account of her almost overwhelming stubbornness and resolve.

Perhaps she got that from her father?

From her mother, she clearly got her looks, for she was indeed a gorgeous young woman.

Her mother, at her age, could have had any man she desired. And she did indeed have many. But she also possessed a wonderful charm and composure that age had not taken from her, still today, delightful company socially to anyone lucky enough to know her.

Old Father Time had however taken its toll of her youth, but, now aged 54, was still a very attractive woman and capable of attracting a passing mans attention. Still arousing even a young mans 'interest' for beauty is inherent and something that time cannot erase.

Sensuality and sex are familiar bedfellows and bed is indeed a very suitable place to appreciate both!

She was all too familiar with the sexual antics practised in the bedroom, her skills being honed with each man she chose. Men she considered eligible, qualified. Men she considered gifted, in possession of the tool necessary in pleasuring a womans' body and provide the 'key' to unlocking the sexual energy stored within her.

But that energy, though considerable, was under her control.

She was not governed by its' demands but instead used it to HER advantage, for HER benefit and for HER ecstatic joy. To achieve that goal desired by all women but cruelly denied to some.

That energy when released, made her feel alive! It's what got her out of bed in the morning to greet the day and got her into bed during the day.

When young she experienced many 'keys' and to this day, still has fond memories of the larger ones!

But she adored her husband. Totally. Obediently. Lovingly. His passing had not changed her feelings for him and she missed his loving touch and the things he made her feel when he was with her... and inside her.

Their daughter, Laura, inherited all their good qualities, with few of their bad.

But she was far from perfect, nobody is. She had to control her lust, appreciate her qualities were a gift and that men are prone to using a woman solely for their own pleasures and needs.

Her mother had taught her well but she still had much to learn about life... and love... and sex.

He got to his workstation with little time to spare, his heart racing and his head almost spinning out of control, his mind being subjected to a hectic maelstrom of disjointed erotic fantasies.

He sat down and studied the folded, orange piece of paper once more.

To him it's value far outweighed the brevity of the message written upon it. To him, at this moment, he felt it to be his most valuable possession. He would not sell it for the proverbial million dollars. Not this. He had lost too much sleep, wept too many tears and endured too much angst to not appreciate fully the words that delicious, sensual being had given to him on the train not fifteen minutes earlier.

'Laura'

'6 pm'

'Eastern Park gate'

He read it over and over, desperately trying to glean an insight into her motives and intent.

He accepted after many agonizing minutes, the implications the message held.

He rewound the tape inside his head to the moment she stood before him on the train and delivered to him this note, this notice of intent. He remembered the smile, her bare breast, that delicious, pale soft tit uncovered by her blouse and the hard, long nipple. He recounted the moment she kissed him! Her lips were so hot, so soft, full of a sensual passion he had never felt before in a woman. For she was no girl, but unquestionably a woman.

Perhaps that explained her aura? That wonderful sensual calm around her which he noticed the moment he saw her on Monday. It was a product of her experience and inner confidence, not just in herself, but in WHAT she did and HOW she did it. She exuded not just sensuality but sex. It hung heavy on her like an erotic perfume, except this was not applied from a bottle but lived inside her, a part of her, a measure of her erotic essence.

Then he remembered her touch.

Her contact with him could have been a handshake and a "hello". Instead it was a kiss on the mouth and a grinding of her soft ass on his crotch! More than that she seemed to enjoy the feel of the hard-on in his pants!

He is usually embarrassed when a girl notices his bulge in public, afraid they may think he is a pervert. But SHE seemed to relish the way his cock entered between her soft, warm butt cheeks! He certainly enjoyed it!

So why did she run off?

Why didn't she stick around so they get to know each other? Why give him a message? Perhaps she is NOT Laura?! Maybe she just wants to introduce him to one of her friends? Probably the socially awkward one, the one who lacks charm, sensuality, charisma and sex appeal. The good friend she feels sorry for.

Why then did she kiss him so passionately?

'No, she MUST be Laura' he agreed. He hoped so. He hoped when he arrived for the rendezvous he would find HER there, her desire strong, her body needy, her kiss passionate and sensual.

The Supervisor rudely interrupted his erotic daydream. "Mr. Evans, need I remind you that the...blah, blah,blah.

The Supervisor departed, leaving behind another pile of dusty documents requiring data entry.

He would like to shove those documents up his ass and tell him to fuck off.

But he had rent and bills to pay, like everyone else.

He acknowledged he was a part of the machine. Not a vital part, not a part that plays an important role, not even a part with a name just a number, 3951746E.

A part number.

Perhaps 'E' stood for Evans? Perhaps he existed as a person within the machine after all? His entire being and humanity summarized as 'E'.

The cafe was where she felt at home.

She was grateful for her uncle offering her this job, after her University grades fell to dangerously low levels and everyone realized she was not an academic.

She always knew she wasn't but her father encouraged her to get a degree. She suspects it was more an attempt to keep her busy with homework so she had less time to get involved with the wrong men. To him the 'wrong men' were those who just wanted to fuck her. To her, the wrong men were the right men so long as they fucked her WELL. Not that she was a slut. She didn't sleep around as such. She knew she could have her pick of any man, her mother had taught her that much. But her sex, her desire, had always been strong and she could not ignore the lustful urges which took hold of her when with an eligible man.

She first saw THIS man on her train, last week.

He did not seem to notice her, perhaps because the crowd of 'grey' people concealed her, hiding her charms from his view?

But she certainly noticed HIM!

His charisma and body language singled him out of the bland, grey crowd that surrounded him and when she had the chance to meet with him this morning, she took full advantage of it!

The idea of a note came late in the plan.

She so enjoyed a game of cat and mouse!

Or pussy and cock! Now THAT was a game, a game to be enjoyed and celebrated, a game for adults, for it was the 'X' rated game of Desire and Lust!

It is said 'Money makes the world go around', but that is not true.

It is Love. It is Desire. It is LUST! These primal urges supremely outdate the cold newcomer 'money'.

'Money cannot buy you happiness' goes another saying and that IS true.

But love can! If someone is in love AND unhappy then they are doomed. Nothing more can be done for them if they do not relish Love and its coarse first cousin Lust!

If Love makes the world go around, then Lust must make it go up and down a little!

Lust drives our hearts, money our bank statements.

Sex gives us orgasms, money gives us ulcers.

His day was dragging as usual, thoughts of the after work meeting with that delicious girl, whose name, 'Laura' was now engraved into his head if not his heart, meant the end of the working day, and week, could not come soon enough.

He sat at his work station thinking of her, captivated by her charms. He studied her over and over again in his minds eye. Her face, her smile, her eyes, her hair, her scent, her breasts, her hips.

He imagined stripping her naked, removing her clothing slowly, piece by piece, savouring the slow reveal of her naked secrets. He imagined himself naked and moving inside her, her pussy wet and hot, his hands free to fondle her intimately, his world now full of hope and colour and ecstasy!

His awkward erection brought him back to the cold, oppressive reality of his work station and the task of data entry.

His erection waned.

She so enjoyed working at the cafe. To her it was not working at all!

The chance to meet all manner of people, young, old, girls, boys, men...hot men! The social interaction stimulated her and she reveled in the brio, the priceless energy of life exuded by those she met. She embraced social intercourse as much as sexual intercourse, deriving joy from both.

Their centres of stimulation simply at opposite ends of the body!

Her day passed quickly, her mind thoughtful of the date she had made with that promising young man! Her concentration on her activities at the cafe was interrupted constantly by her erotic daydreams. She imagined him laying with her on the grass in the park, away from the prying, judgemental eyes of onlookers, his shirt unbuttoned, his muscular frame firm to her touch as she caressed his torso and held him tightly to her naked breasts...!

Uncle Felice barked a request and she suddenly snapped back to reality with a start and went to the fridge to get more cream for the coffees.

If he knew she was meeting a man this evening he would be concerned.

Not for her but him! She used men the way her mother had done.

When her age, she too left a trail of broken hearts in her wake. Men who were not just eligible, but ideal. Not just eager to please her but spoil her, hopeful the sensual attention would make him an indispensable part of her life.

Yet it was only after she matured and met his brother Antonio, that she fell in love. This was a feeling new to her and he was the only man who ever made her feel that. It was a measure of his immense charm and character. Also a measure of his abilities in the bedroom.

Five pm struggled, but finally arrived upon the clock face and he shut down his computer, put away his pens and pencils and filed the tired documents.

His heart had been racing all day it seemed, his body eager to meet with her!

He made his way down a floor in the stairwell to the gymnasium where he intended to take a shower.

The gym was set up to allow the employees a chance to stay fit, the long inactivity at their workstations deemed unhealthy not by the Corporation but the State Health Department.

If the Corporation had their way, this space would have been much more profitably employed to further their quest for fortune, not for the dubious rehabilitation of inconsequential, easily replaceable parts of their 'machine'.

But the reality was, no one but HE used the facilities here. One look at the obese physiques of his co workers, a testament to that.

He stripped and stepped under the shower, the hot water cleansing his skin of the invisible plaque of contamination he felt pervaded his office. That almost tangible haze of negativity that adhered to him and slowly, insidiously, entered his body through his pores.

He lathered his hands and washed his penis and balls, the sensual action causing him to stiffen. He softly gripped his shaft, stroking it while imagining it inside her... thrusting!

He snapped himself of his erotic daydream and rinsed himself of the suds, then dried his body with a large towel.

He slipped back into his pants and a clean shirt, combed his hair, freshened up and went to his locker to put on some cologne and deodorant.

He placed his tie inside but decided to carry his jacket, as although the evenings were warm, it may get cool at night and he could offer it to her.

He was a romantic at heart, a heart that had not learnt the lessons of breakups. It was to be forever vulnerable but he was possessed of a positive spirit which caused him to be dismissive of potential failure in matters of love.

He checked his appearance in the small, cracked mirror above the sink and made his way to the lift. The building was empty of office staff now, the cleaners the only occupants.

He rode the lift down to the ground floor and stepped through the heavy front door into the throng of grey people on the footpath, their intent solely on returning home via a bus, taxi or train, ignorant of his evening with a beautiful young woman!

The noise of the city was in stark contrast to the eerie, surreal silence of the office and at first it assaulted his ears, the hot smell of the traffic, his nostrils and lungs.

The air was warm, the sun still quite high in the sky as it was now late spring. The promise of a hot summer and the opportunity to enjoy the holidays and the beach, the girls in scanty bikinis, stirred his soul.

Eastern Park was situated a few blocks away and he set off with breathless enthusiasm, stopping briefly at a vendor on the footpath for an espresso, its bitter taste invigorating his mind and putting a spring in his step!

It was 5:45 as he approached the gate to the park, an occasional venue for classical music concerts and flower shows.

This evening it would play host to a young couple, hopeful of sex, sensual delights and of experiencing the colour and vitality of life and love!

Apart from an old woman, selling flowers, he was alone at the gate and took the opportunity to buy a vibrant, perfect red rose, hopeful she was not allergic.

The grey crowd passed him by, ignorant of the importance of the meeting he so eagerly anticipated.

Suddenly, she appeared out of the anonymous crowd, a big smile on her face and sparkles in her eyes!!

Her thin, loose blouse, affected by the light breeze, offered a cheeky hint of naked breast, her short skirt revealing her long, bare legs! Impossibly, she looked even more beautiful than he remembered!

He smiled instinctively and she embraced him, her arms around his neck and kissed him so gently, softly and sensitively, it instantly took him to a place he previously only imagined existed, a gloriously sensual paradise, of tranquility and unbounded love.

She offered a sultry "Hello stranger!"

He was lost for words, only thoughts ran through his mind. All lustful ones.

"So... you ARE Laura?" was all he could think of! Inside, he was relieved 'Laura' was not one of her unhappy friends.

"I'm..." struggling to remember his name, "Gregory ...Greg...my friends call me Greg". He smiled, all too aware how awkward he sounded.

"I'm SO happy to see you again!" she shrieked, as she held her face in her hands, seemingly amazed that he would actually show up!

"What do you mean?" "I've thought of nothing but you all day!"

"This has been one fucked up week, let me tell you!" he added coarsely.

Then he remembered the rose and presented it to her, the way jewels are offered to a queen.

"Ohhh...that's beautiful!" "Thank you SO much!"

"I knew you were a romantic!" she added gently, her heart full of genuine appreciation for his simple act.

She leaned in and hugged him again and kissed his lips passionately this time, in a way which made his trousers feel tight! His erection brushed her thigh lightly.

She felt his 'enthusiasm' and smiled coyly at him, and said "I also knew you were passionate!" "Now I have an idea how BIG your passion is!" She giggled like a little girl, surprising even herself!

He went a little red and didn't know where to put his hands.

She sensed his embarrassment and held his hand in hers. "You have such soft, warm hands!" she said, with a hint of sexual innuendo. They looked into each others eyes, and smiled.

Both knew there was an excess of sexual tension between them.

It was almost palpable. Heavy. The air surrounding them was thick with pheromones, Natures drug, its' way of instigating sex.

They entered the park and walked slowly, hand in hand. She had placed the rose in her hair, a wonderfully Latin custom. The dark red petals complemented her lipstick and she looked disarmingly irresistible!

The park was not busy, despite being a Friday and offering workers the chance to unwind at the end of the week in the tranquil surrounds of nature.

But they were elsewhere, perhaps at the bar, drowning their sorrows.

They strolled slowly, making small talk, desperately melting the ice which often plagues a first date.

They approached an ice cream vendor, his small hand cart garishly painted, so as to make its presence difficult to ignore!

"What would you like?" he asked her.

"You!" she replied softly, her eyes burning brightly, like a tigress.

He laughed, "No, I mean, what flavour ice cream?"

She said in a sultry tone "Do they have 'Sexy Man' flavour?!"

He laughed out loud! "Is that what you desire?" he asked coyly.

"Of course it is, my body craves 'Sexy Man' flavour!" "Can't you tell?"