Having just handed the light sheaf of printed pages back to me in its noticeably more crumpled folder than before, her next words were totally unexpected, even in view of the best-case-scenario fantasies I'd been having since she accepted the selfsame folder from my hands three days earlier.
'So – what would your first touch be?'
I focused my gaze, breathing and attention upon her, refining the latter and holding onto the former as a holy-man would a talisman, looking at her stood there in the narrow locker section before me, willow-slender, tall and strikingly beautiful beyond belief.
He'd need to be a holy-man not to fall for that gaze, or that body.
'In general - or in specific?'
Elle's smile of reply as always, seemed to convey an all-knowing quality – I wish I knew how she did that.
'It's
your
touch...'
'Okay then – in general; it would be a light stroke of the thumb along the jaw, moving on slowly down the neck...'
Her head angled slightly to one side, eyes phasing out to another place for a second, then returning to meet mine, all dark and piercing.
'I didn't mean tell it... show me.'
If I'd felt my gaze had been inscrutable before, it must have become purely-Zen, as ego-less as a newborn's in the long seeming seconds between hearing her words and seeing my right hand rise up through the space separating us.
Even if my face was impassive in those protracted heartbeats growing steadily louder in my veins and ears, the pit of my stomach hit freefall all by itself, and spread its tingling message up through my body – although I hadn't been aware of it growing, I now felt a full and somehow instant erection, thankfully masked by my shirt worn outside the belt, and therefore hung down to below the crotch.
I breathed slowly out, the hand approaching the smooth side of her face angled slightly toward me, fingertips already sensitive to the imminent touch of contact, busy with anticipatory electric jolts back and forth between nerves and brain.
Elle's eyelids lowered as my hand completed its approach, closing before proximity became the lightest of contact, closing the circuit. I slid three fingertips softly forward along the cheekbone toward her ear, just visible under the long drop of straight, dark hair protecting it and her neck's swan-smooth, graceful curve; becoming more pronounced with her head rolling away, face turning slightly from me while my hand arched, lifting the hair clear of her skin.
Almost inspecting that line of neck, I drew my thumb as promised along the sharp smoothness of her jaw line, feeling more than hearing her indrawn breath, sucked lightly and held until the thumb joined the fingers in a lingering slide down her long neck.
Reluctantly I withdrew my hand from contact with her warm flesh, eyelids fluttering slightly in opening, she returned from wherever she'd gone in that moment of contact, still not done with her slight sigh of exhalation.
Eyes no longer dark in quite the same way, she took a moment of gathering from under a spreading smile.
'Wow... intense.' Her voice already deep and smoky-chocolate had gone richer in tone, dropping a further octave.
'Thank you.' I didn't trust my own voice enough to say more – nor was my brain providing anything further from my lips –
Intense indeed.
'And – the touch in specific...?'
Emboldened by the contact, the moment and her light fluidity of stance, revealing an impish glitter to her-eye contact and smile, I gave a twitch of a smile in return – more a flexing of my lips.
'For that, I would use my tongue.'
'A kiss?' She drew a breath and I let her supposition build, then release into a sigh of eyebrow supported, vague disappointment.
'If you like... but not on the lips normally associated with such, and not before my tongue has awoken them.'
Supposition and realisation worked together in her look this time, her nostrils joined in and flared slightly, her gaze locking on, lids fluttering lightly with instant lust oozing from under her lashes – her smile matured, lips seeming fuller from one second to the next, and slightly moistened as they parted in subconscious copying of what those others must be doing right now – at least in my mind.
Her hand scooped mine up and she stepped backwards, eyes flicking sideways to the steps leading down to where we were stood. No one was coming and only the distant radio from the warehouse blared hollowly beyond.
Adding a little more momentum she stepped back a pace, leading me with her towards the ladies toilets.
'So, show me that too.'
Full details of the next few seconds vanished somewhere beyond true recall, I was giddy, only vaguely aware of the steps taken and doors opening, of hard and cold surfaces all around as and echoes shifting sharply to the fore – there was also the warm, soft contact of flesh upon flesh the whole time. The folder of writings, erotic writings from my restless pen that I'd lent to Elle for no other reason than her genuine show of interest in them, fell to the floor, bringing me back to full reality with its slap of sound.
We were stood, face to face and quite close together in a cubicle, a shower cubicle it seemed, and my hands were resting lightly upon the easily felt bones of her slender hips – I had no idea if she or I had put them there.
Completing my return to the moment I slowly knelt down before her, hands still in place, composing my next move.
She rescued the moment from becoming too protracted and un-clasped her trousers, sliding the zipper down fully with that rich sound so full of promise, then opening the front out fully, shirt still protecting her modesty and flesh beneath. She sent long fingers inside to tug its tails free, lifting them up. I watched her hook both thumbs neatly under her now revealed slip's light elastic, sliding it all down in one smooth movement earned from almost twenty-three years practise.
Straightening she looked down at me, long legs now slender and exquisitely naked just a short breath's distance before my face, their smooth flow of line transfixing, drawing my eye to where their tantalising crux was once more hidden by the lightly crumpled drapes of her shirt-tails – suggesting the long moment of speculative mystery before a play opens, their slight parting hinted at what was almost visible behind, just waiting to be revealed.
My hands glided slow and surely downwards from her hips, touch thrilling at the abrupt transition from black cotton to luminescent warmth of soft flesh.
I reversed their direction, fingers leading them back upwards under her shirt's hem, following the outer line and flare of thighs back up past her hips and then inwards upon another delightful curve toward her waist - thumbs trailing up the front of her legs, bare inches from her elegantly moulded mount of Venus, now in the open as the tailored shirt rose up with them, halting only when my thumbs once more rested along her hip bones, baring her completely to me from waist down to slender ankles buried in the pile of her fallen clothing.
With nostrils flaring slowly I caught the crisp scent of her readiness fully, feeling it as a powerful rush connecting directly to my erection; its hardness now uncomfortably confined and despite the concealment of my shirt, it had become definitely visible as a long bulge extending to half way along my thigh. I decided against the last piece of unfurling to release her breasts to the air, that mystery would be preserved for a little longer.
Supporting herself with a hand on my shoulder, Elle lifted one leg and rotating her foot, gripped her heel letting the trouser legs and shoes drop one by one from her. Her breathing had already become slightly elevated in response to her boldness.
