Its All About Anticipation

Things had been brewing for some time, for years in fact. There were so many occasions he could remember, so many throwaway moments that on their own were insignificant but which taken together took on a synergy of their own and became a deeply involved tapestry. It was hard at times to tell who was seducing who, which of them was driving things and which was content to sit back and let scenarios and situations unfold for their titillation and enjoyment. In truth, apart from the very beginning, their flirting and beguiling had flowed between them like tides between two shores. He had certainly said things to her that he had never considered saying to anyone else, and had envisaged so much between them that he would once have never dreamed of. She had begun it all so long ago, her obvious sexual energy just looking for an outlet which she could feel safe with, yet play with and control to satisfy her own mischievous nature.

He had been content at first to play along, to let himself be led with some mild curiosity but no real sense of anticipation. Their verbal sparring was never going to transform itself into anything real between them, he knew that, indeed he was convinced that she wasn’t even attracted to him, he just happened to be the closest and easiest available target for her. He had felt exactly the same way, until a sudden moment when he realised he had misjudged himself completely.

They had been playing mind games with each other that day, flirting outrageously with each other, when she had grabbed something of his from the table and ran. Without going outside, there wasn’t far she could go, and he soon cornered her and pinned her down. Up close and personal, he suddenly noticed for the first time how full her lips were, he could feel the heat of her arms as he held them, and he could feel her breath moist on his face. He withdrew abruptly, before the urge to pin her down and kiss her deeply overpowered him completely, and before his sudden erection was noticed. Somewhat confused and more than a little abashed at his body’s sudden betrayal, he had retreated swiftly, but things had changed irrevocably from that moment on.

Thereafter he had been more cautious, but at the same time much more willing to play along. He found himself noticing her clothing much more, her hair, her moods, and all sorts of little details. He would find himself fantasising about her at all times of the day or night, forcing himself out of his reverie with a sudden start at work when he realised he had been imaging the soft skin of her thighs under his fingers. On rare occasions she would sleep over, he in the bed, and she on the sofa downstairs, and he would spend the whole night thinking about stealing quietly in to her and losing himself in her for hours. There were only two problems with this, but both were very real and probably insurmountable.

They were both married, and she was his wife’s best friend!

They had kissed before, but it hadn’t gone well. He had been completely unable to relax, mainly because his wife was in the next room and aware of what was happening. They had not been able to get past that first nervous, fumbling sizing up of each other, where their lips met and their minds worked furiously trying to understand what the other liked. He realised that all the expectation, all the anticipation of this moment would come to nothing now, even as his groin pressed against her and he felt her yielding body relax into him. Too much of his concentration was on his wife, where she was, what she would be thinking. Even as those lips he had dreamed of so often sucked gently against his own he had a sudden insight into how disastrously this would end. The evening had gone rapidly downhill from there.

So he had resigned himself to the idea that she would only ever be an object of fantasy for him, and even then the flirtation between them could never be the same, all the delicious thrill of anticipation and maybes and what ifs had passed in a clumsy coup-de-grace to his desire. He was surprised to realise how much of the sparkle it took from his life, how much he had needed that edge of excitement that reminded him so much of teenage years, when he had been a walking hormone factory completely out of control at the first signal of feminine interest.

Work became busier yet seemed more mundane; his social circle extended itself but seemed to be full of pointless people who really didn’t grab his imagination. Of course, his sex life with his wife was still good, but then it usually was. It was with relief he looked at the memo in front of him and picked up the phone. The memo was about setting up a night out on the town for a small group of them who had joined the company around the same time. He listened to the ringing tone and idly imagined flirting with a complete stranger in a bar somewhere. He had never been unfaithful to his wife, and had no intention of doing so, despite his until recently almost constant fantasising about her friend. He had never expected to actually go to bed with her, but he would have been prepared to go further with her than with anyone else. He pictured her now, arms pinned to her sides, her back pressed against him, his hand slipping into the waistband of her underwear…the voice answering at the other end of the phone jolted him back to the real world.

The plans made for the evening; he busied himself in his work again. He was in a rare position in that his office was completely isolated. The entire building was supposedly a base for the service team, but in truth they never used the place, preferring to work directly from home, so he was always alone here. After a couple of hours of mind numbing routine, churning out endless reams of paperwork so that someone else in an office somewhere could churn out more paperwork in reply, he sat back from the keyboard and rubbed his aching neck. The day had passed swiftly enough, it was twilight outside now and the glare from the monitor was the only light in the darkened room. He stretched languidly in his chair, feeling the tension ease in his shoulders, and closed his eyes for a moment.

Instantly she was there. His mind’s eye pictured her as he had last seen her, with her hair perfectly made up, her eyes sparkling with fun and promise, her sinuous body begging his eyes to undress her. He imagined grabbing her, pulling her hard against him, letting her feel his arousal as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. He imagined lowering his head to her, mouths opening, kissing passionately, so real he could feel her breath on his lips.

She was as aroused as he was, her hands gripped his face as one of his snaked up to twine his fingers through her hair. She lifted one leg to rub her calf against him, as he broke the kiss and his mouth worked over her cheek, her ear and down to her neck. She gasped as he sucked the soft skin at the edge of her shoulder, her arms around him now and squeezing his shoulders. Without pause, he slipped open two of the buttons of her blouse and pulled the material aside. He nuzzled at her neck, his lips traced a line along her throat and then down over the soft swell at the top of her breast. She dug her nails into his shoulder and he knew she needed more.

He pressed his hand into the small of her back and she ground herself against him, as he grazed her nipple with his teeth through the sheer fabric of the blouse. He began to bite, and she moaned with pleasure. She grabbed his hand, and sucked one finger into his mouth, working on it with her tongue, her lips, suckling gently and running the edge of her sharp white teeth along it’s length. The inference was too much, and he ripped her blouse and bra open to expose pale skin and nipples that were hard as rock. She twisted herself slightly away, and as he squeezed her nipple between finger and thumb she reached down to release his cock that was straining for her touch.

Christ! He opened his eyes, remembering suddenly where he was, and thankful for once to be on his own. The vivid reality of the images in his mind had been incredible, and he now sported an erection that knew nothing of fantasy and was in desperate need of some attention. Caution thrown to the winds now, he unzipped himself to release his cock, closed his eyes again, and masturbated unashamedly as he thought of her. It was as he imagined going down on her, thrusting his tongue into her and licking her clit until she screamed in pleasure that his orgasm hit, and he came in great spurts that made a horrible mess of his shirt.

So it was in this frame of mind that he dressed for the evening. He wore black boxer shorts, soft and clinging, which he knew accentuated every bulge. Button fly trousers in heavy denim made the most of his 6’0 frame, and the shirt of midnight blue was heavy enough to conceal the details but light enough to stop him overheating. The coarse grain of the material rasped slightly to the touch, and the tactile inducement it gave was a favourite of his. Freshly showered and shaved, he felt good about tonight. Certainly he was no god’s gift, he knew that, but he would not feel out of place surrounded by younger, fitter or more attractive men either. Grabbing his keys and wallet, he ran out the door as soon as the taxi arrived, and jumped in to be greeted by two of his friends.

The beer had already been flowing from the look of things, and they were both in that inanely happy yet not unpleasantly so mood that only alcohol or soft drugs can induce. As they exited the taxi and entered the bar the world was a rosy place, and the noise and bustle of the place gave him a real buzz. He steered his friends to a convenient leaning post where they could survey the dance floor, and headed off to the bar.

Elbowing his way through 3 or 4 people, he finally ended up leaning on the dark walnut, pushing ashtrays out of the way and hoping the barman would notice him sometime this side of Christmas. The barman was away on his left, trying desperately to keep up with the constant stream of shouted orders, and he watched intently, trying to get the right moment to catch the man’s attention. He didn’t notice the gentle nudge in his right side until it turned into a full on dig in the ribs. He turned to his right slowly, dangerously slowly, half expecting to have to thump some tanked up youth who had decided he took priority over everyone else at the bar. Instead, he looked down and there was the crooked smile, the raised eyebrow, and the wickedest smile he had ever seen. She was on a night out with the girls too? Oh, it promised to be an interesting evening…

To be continued, maybe, if I decide it should be.