Chemistry 11

There was a chemistry between us from the moment we first met. I had just been hired. I was a junior project manager fresh out of college; he was one of the field supervisors, eight or ten years older than me, quiet and almost shy-seeming but possessed of a dry and understated sense of humor that seemed to come out of nowhere and often had me cracking up out of the blue.

The moment we were introduced there was a jolt of sexual energy that passed between us. I know I felt it anyway; I suspect that he did too, but I've never been any good at telling. In any case, it was pretty much a moot point; he was (as far as I could tell) happily married, and at the time I was living with my boyfriend.

We didn't cross paths at work very often, but when we did there was always that spark that sent shivers down my spine and made me feel flushed and self conscious. And occasionally made me run to the bathroom and guiltily masturbate.

As a general rule, I'm not the kind of girl that guys get crushes on. First of all, I'm not skinny. I'm not fat either, and I've lost a ton of weight since high school, but I'll never be a skinny girl. Second of all I wear glasses. And I'm the kind of social misfit who would rather go home and play SimCity (or browse internet porn) than go out dancing. I'm basically a nerd.

One time after work, a bunch of us went out for drinks, and I got dragged along. He was there and ended up sitting next to me. His thigh pressed up against mine. It felt good. I didn't move my leg. He didn't move away either. We stayed pressed up against each other in the booth through three drinks. By the time I got home, I was so drunk and horny that my head was spinning.

But that was all: periodic bouts of (kinky, possibly perverted) masturbatory fantasy on my part, occasional (totally imaginary?) flirtation on his part. Meanwhile, my boyfriend came and went, and I started (in my own introverted and socially awkward way) chasing after girls.

And then we got sent to Cincinnati. There was some machinery out there that wasn't working right. He had to go up a big ladder to troubleshoot it. I was essentially sent along as a ladder-holder.

It turned out to be a long day's work, with a lot of swearing and fussing on his part, and a lot of ladder-holding and handing up of tools on mine. It took ten hours, but we finally got the thing working.

It had been a really long day already, and we were both pretty whipped; him from a long day up on a ladder, and me from a long day of standing at the bottom of his ladder. We got checked into our hotel, and agreed to meet up in an hour for dinner. After a hot shower and a change of clothes, I felt much better. And hornier.

We had dinner together at some chain restaurant. I don't remember which one; they're all pretty much the same thing anyway. The food was ok. We killed off a bottle of wine between the two of us. And I'm a serious lightweight. Our flirtation (if that is in fact what it was- I'm so bad at telling!) was more overt than it had ever been. At least mine definitely was.

Then we went back to the hotel. We had an early flight home. And that was when I made my move, my head reeling with red wine. We were standing in front of the door to his room- he was on the first floor and my room was up on the second- and it seemed like he was hesitating to say goodnight.

I worked up my courage (assisted by the alcohol being pumped through my veins by my pounding, horny heart), opened up my mouth and said "Do you feel like hanging out for a while?"

"Sure" he said, leaving the end of the word hanging out there like a fall leaf dancing on a twig.

We stepped into his hotel room and the door swung closed behind us. Our hands met, our fingers intertwined. He leaned forward to kiss me. I closed my eyes. I could feel his hot breath on my lips. I couldn't wait to get his pants down, to find out just what was causing that delicious looking bulge in the front of his jeans.

"I can't do this" he said "I'm sorry."

Fuck.

"I'm sorry" he repeated "I'm incredibly turned on and I'm really attracted to you, but I just can't."

"I understand" I said, my heart sinking "how about just a blowjob then – between friends?"

God, I couldn't believe I'd just said that.

"I really can't. I want to, really badly. But I can't. I'm sorry."

"Well what if we just watched each other masturbate? That wouldn't be cheating..." Could I sink any lower? Pathetic. Just pathetic.

"Are you serious?" he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Umm... sure."

"I think that would be really hot" he said "If you don't mind..."

Mind? Hardly! That sounded a hell of a lot better than going upstairs alone and frustrated. Not as good as the orgy of illicit sex I had been picturing, but you take what you can get, right?

I guess I just nodded dumbly, because next thing I knew he was stripping.

He was quite beautiful. He had a lovely boy-body, just the kind I like: lean and muscular and smooth. He had a tattoo I didn't know about; a sunflower on his chest, just below his right nipple, in the style of Van Gogh. He smiled at me ruefully before he unbuttoned his jeans. "Are you sure this is ok?"

"Oh Yeah" I said, "Definitely. This is hot."

He finished unsnapping his blue jeans, and pulled them off along with his boxers, setting the goods free. I have to say that he was possessed of a delicious looking cock. It was bigger than I had imagined, but not so big as to look intimidating. His balls dangled pleasantly, and a neatly trimmed triangle of dark hair capped it all off. His penis bobbed nicely as he moved.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hard cock pointing directly at the ceiling, and I felt his eyes on me. I confess that I blushed. I suddenly felt very conscious of my own very far from perfect body.

"This is a little embarrassing" I said.

"Yeah. It's kind of weird, right? We don't have to do this." The head of his penis was reddish purple, and the whole thing twitched slightly with each heartbeat. He looked enormously sexy sitting there on the bed, hands palm down behind him, brow slightly wrinkled with concern.

I took a deep breath and started unbuttoning my blouse. I felt him watching me. I think my hands were shaking a little. After I got my top off, the rest came off quickly and easily. I could only hope that he liked what he saw. His penis sure seemed to anyway.

I guess I should offer a word of explanation. I'm hardly a prude, and certainly no kind of virgin. I'd been naked with guys before plenty of times. This was different though. I'd never been in a situation like this before, where I was putting myself on display in front of a guy I didn't know very well, and where the objective was not to get between the sheets but to look and to not touch. I found it incredibly hot; don't get me wrong, but at the same time quite intimidating.

We ended up on his bed, lying down facing each other. He was petting his cock with the fingertips of one hand. His nipples were hard and sticky-outy and looked like they needed to be sucked on and nibbled at. I restrained myself. My own hand kept slipping between my legs, where I found not at all to my surprise, that I was quite wet and sticky.

Then we made eye contact, and that's when the giggling started. Both of us got it really bad; I rolled over onto my back and laughed till the tears came. Finally the fit was over, and I felt much more relaxed and not one iota less horny.

We were laying on our backs now, an inch or so of electrically charged air between us. A big fat drop of clear liquid was oozing out of the end of his penis, threatening to dribble out onto his tummy. He scooped it up with his thumb, and offered it to me. Oh My God, you are such a tease! My clit twitched. I licked it off his thumb. It was sweet and sticky. I reached down and parted my labia, thick with lust. There was no shortage of joy juice down there; I was leaking like a sieve. I offered him my slimy forefinger. He licked it off like a popsicle, sending shivers up and down my spine. I was so fucking horny at that instant that I felt like I would come if I so much as touched my clit.

Without a word, he got up off the bed and went over to his overnight bag on the floor by the tv. He had such a sexy little ass; I had admired it many times in tight jeans, and naked it looked even better. His muscular cheeks looked like they would fit perfectly in my two hands. I had fantasized before about sticking my tongue between them, holding his cock in my hand while I stuck my tongue up into that dark secret place and made him squirm and moan out loud. He bent over to get something out of his suitcase, and I slipped a finger deep inside my vagina, imagining doing just that to him.

He came up with quite a large, black silicone dildo, vaguely penis-shaped. For a second, my heart dropped. It wasn't that I had anything against dildo's (I owned a couple myself); it was just that it would have been weird to use his (his wife's?) toy. It wouldn't have felt right.

I shouldn't have worried. He sat down on the edge of the bed and poured clear lube onto the phallus, smearing it all over until the black material gleamed. Then he reached behind himself, running a slippery finger between his ass cheeks.

"Is this ok?" he asked shyly.

"Yeah. Really hot." I said, fingering myself shamelessly "I really want to watch you... do it."

"I don't think I'll be able to last very long." He said "I'm way too excited."

"That's ok" I said "I'm right on the edge too." It was true; I had been assiduously avoiding my poor clitoris which felt like a big pink swollen up water balloon.

He got on his knees on the bed, bending over and thrusting his sexy rump up and out. I could see his crinkled little asshole. I couldn't really believe that he was going to be able to take that whole toy. It was... big. Not quite scary big, but quite big enough, thank you! His balls were drawn up tight into a sexy little package. His dick bobbed up and down, whacking him in the belly and leaking a drop of precome that stuck to his tummy and formed a gossamer thread from the end of his engorged cock to just below his belly button. I got up on my knees for a better view.

He closed his eyes and reached behind himself with the dildo. He fumbled a little and found his target. He held his breath and pressed his face into the sheets as he pressed it home. At first it didn't seem like it was going to go in, and then slowly, relentlessly, his body opened up, swallowing the big black toy whole.

"Oh God" he moaned. It was almost all the way up inside him, stretching him wide.

He rolled off his knees and over onto his side. I lay on my side next to him, in a simulacrum of the sixty-nine position. I wanted him to see how wet my pussy was, how hot he was making me.

I personally had a fine view of the action down there. He was stroking his cock, which looked like it might explode at any second, with one strong hand, and working the dildo in tiny little in and out motions with the other hand. I could feel the heat radiating off of him.

"I'm going to come" he informed me breathlessly.

"My breasts" I choked out "Put it on my tits" Tawdry and clichéd I know, but I was way too turned on to care.

His hand was moving hard and fast on his erection. He had the dildo buried up to the base in his asshole. I abandoned self restraint and rubbed my clit mercilessly, trying to time my orgasm to coincide with his.

He groaned out loud and his whole body went stiff. A second later, jet after hot jet of sticky white semen splashed all over my tits and down onto my belly. That was all I needed to set me off like a roll of thunder that echoed from horizon to horizon, never seeming to end.

He watched me as I masturbated to another orgasm, one finger on my clit, another scooping up his bitter white come off my chest and into my mouth.

Then we kissed once, quite chastely, and I went up to my own room, my own shower, the pleasures of my own vibrator.

We never talked about that night. But the next morning, on the flight home, his leg felt really nice pressed up against my own.

END