Nobility

I stood at the door with indecision pushing me to go and tugging me to stay. I turned around just as she walked back into the room.

She was the most desirable woman I had ever known. She was only a few inches shorter than I, standing in her suede two-inch heeled pumps. Her hair was a light brown and cut to a length just below her neck. Her eyes were a smoky hazel that years back would have been described in a detective novel as bedroom eyes. Her body was trim and tight with curves in all the right places and guaranteed to be the center of attention wherever she went.

She stood there assessing me, dressed in a short, tight, knit brown wool skirt, tan silk blouse, and light brown blazer. the shirt was partially unbuttoned so that the swell of her firm, proud breasts showed slightly. She read the confusion on my face and asked, "Are you leaving?"

"I should." I answered.

"Why should you?" she countered back.

I pondered my response to this simple question, a million answers tumbling through my head. With a deep breath, just short of a sigh I responded, "Because I learned long ago that all decisions in life have consequences and I'm not willing to suffer the ones I know can come from the wrong one now."

She slightly shifted her weight from one leg to the other in a fluid motion that was enough to cause my breath to catch in my throat. I knew then how an asthmatic must feel. Almost everything she did, said, or wore caused my pulse to race, my breath to come shallowly, and sometimes even made me unsteady on my feet. I could not help myself in that regard. It was the primeval urge leaping to the fore. "Breed her! She's fertile! She's willing! BREED HER!!!!" it shouted in my head. But still I held back. It was as if every cell in my body was urging me forward to mix my bodily fluids and my DNA with hers. But still I held myself back.

"What consequences might you be referring to?"

She deserved an explanation, at least. I reluctantly walked back to the center of the room and took a seat in her overstuffed chair. I avoided the trap of sitting on the couch where she could sit down beside me, brushing her silky legs against mine, and softly running her hand up my leg. I had already experienced that at the board meeting today. She stood with one hand on her hip and the other absently brushing aside a stray wisp of hair.

My heart pounded like a blacksmith's hammer in my ear. I waited a moment until my breathing was once again under control and responded, "I'm not good at being noble. I know I will hate myself tomorrow for this but, as much as I want to, I can't stay with you tonight...or any night for that matter. I have obligations that I must keep and those keep me from offering myself or anything to you. It would be unfair to everyone involved--my wife, you, and myself--if I were to stay here and make love to you. Hell, I don't have to wait until morning, I can easily hate myself now." A mental image of me kicking myself in the ass came on so strong that I swear I could feel the impact.

She crossed her arms over her chest and just stood there silently looking at me. Her breathing made her breasts rise and fall rhythmically. I couldn't help it. I stared.

I continued, "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known. Everything about you excites me but giving you up is a sacrifice I feel I must make."

She considered me for a moment, "Sacrifice? Nobility? Is this what you really want?" she said with an odd tone in her voice. If you are positive on this then maybe I should make your sacrifice that much greater by showing you just what you are giving up."

I smiled, chuckled, and said, "Oh yeah, that would be just what I need right now." At that moment, whether her mind was already made up or she interpreted my comment as assent, she slid off her blazer. "I want you to see what is at stake here so that years from now you can look back on this as your finest hour."

I stammered out a lame call for her to stop but she could tell my heart wasn't in it. Her blazer hit the floor followed shortly by her skirt, the quality wool puddling at her feet. As my eyes traveled up her long trim legs a view of creamy white thigh shown between the tail of her blouse and her stocking tops. Standing with her legs slightly apart, she slowly unbuttoned her cuffs while staring at me with smoldering eyes. I sat frozen in the chair, incapable and unwilling to move. Dynamite could not have moved me from that chair.

Her shirt came open revealing a tan under wired bra, encompassing two perfect, smooth breasts. The shirt joined her skirt on the floor and she took a step towards me. The blood was pounding in my ears and my pants were becoming uncomfortably tight. I realized my mouth was very dry and hanging open and I slammed it closed. A slight grin came onto her face.

She stood before me like a model from a Victoria's Secret catalog. She was as perfect a vision of beauty as any woman I could imagine. Her hair shone like a halo in the sunlight from the window behind her. Her breasts rose and fell in the cups of her bra. Her stomach was ridged with muscles, tight, and with just enough of the outline of her ribs showing. Her matching lace panties gave only the slightest hint of the outline of her womanhood and a dark shadow to suggest the outline of her pubic hair. The straps of her garter belt crossed the slight curve of her thigh to meet her sheer stockings that glinted in the sunlight like polished metal.

She bent over, exposing her cleavage, reached down, undid the clasps of her garter straps from her stockings, then unhooked the garter belt, letting it drop to the pile of clothes behind her. She adjusted her stockings and pulled them tight on her legs. She stood back up straight with her hands brushing across the tops of her breasts, down her stomach, and coming to rest on her hips. She looked at me with a slight smile and said, "How is your nobility holding out? I can stop if you wish...or you could leave."

A terrorist hit team bursting into the room with guns blazing could not have forced me out of that chair at that moment. I said nothing as if I was incapable of speech. I may have been.

My silence implied assent to her, so she reached back, undid the clasp of her bra, and held the cups against her with one hand. She shrugged the straps off her shoulders, slipped her arms free one by one, and stood, slightly smiling at me. With a haughty look, she let the bra fall to her feet. Her breasts came free and dropped a slight fraction of an inch and then stood proud and firm from her chest. There was just enough of a drop to let me know that they were one hundred percent real. Her breasts were fantastic. They were almost perfectly round with similarly perfect nipples. Seeing the look of wonder on my face she cupped her breasts with her hands and gave her nipples a slight pinch. This caused them to distend and stand out straight and hard. Something of mine became straight and hard at the same moment.

She turned ninety degrees to the right, pushed her hands into the waist band of her panties and slowly slid them down her legs. As graceful as a ballet dancer she bent down, keeping her legs straight and her pert bottom in the air. The sight was almost more than I could stand. She straightened back up and turned to face me, slightly spreading her legs apart and dangled her panties from the fingers of her hand resting on her right hip.

My heart was beating like a pile driver in my chest. My cock was as hard as I had ever known it to be. My head was swimming. All thoughts of my marriage and my self respect flew out of my head. I had lost and I knew it. I was going to get up throw her to the ground and pound myself into her on the carpet and her pile of clothes.

Then, with a smirk on her face she said, "How noble are you now?"

It was a simple question. It was one that had a simple answer. I didn't feel noble or self-sacrificing. I was in full rut, like a bull elk maddened by the scent of a female in estrus. I had to have her. But when I attempted to leave the chair and take her, images of my wife flooded back into my brain.

How would I face her? How could I continue to live with her if I gave in here. As much as this beautiful naked woman drove me wild with the desire to pin her to the floor and plunge myself into that moist, slick opening, I could not.

Years of constant companionship, laughing, loving, touching feet under the covers night after night could not be replaced by one night of blind animal passion. Something else inside told me that this walking, talking wet dream in front of me didn't offer me much more than just this one night.

My logical side flooded back in full force and I hated it for it. I was middle-aged. Hell, I was past middle-aged. The raging hard-on in my lap stated emphatically that I was far from needing Viagra but still no longer an 18-year old. She was young, much younger than I, and I knew I would not be able to hold her interest for long. Another would come along with what she felt she needed at that moment and she would be gone from my life. I knew that clearly at that moment as if it had already happened two years, a year, or a week into the future.

She stood there in front of me, not moving towards me or away. She waited for me to decide. I think she could see the argument raging in my mind. She stood their slowly rocking from side to side. I noticed her pubic hair was shaved into the shape of a heart and waxed or shaved close to her labia. Her labia moved against each other as she slowly rocked from side to side. I could see or imagine a slight sheen start to form between them. She was as excited by this as I was. I fought back the urge to once again throw her to the floor and have my way with her.

"You obviously need a few more moments to make up your mind." She turned around and bent at the waist to retrieve her clothes from the floor. Still bent at the waist, she looked back over her shoulder at me, staring fixedly at her nether lips just three feet from my face and tongue. I could almost smell her faint womanly aroma. I was entranced by it. With a sly, knowing smile of triumph she said, "I'll be right back."

She walked slowly from the room and into her bedroom. I almost came in my pants at her sinuous movements and the view of that perfect derriere.

Now was my time to escape. I tried to pull myself out of the chair but my legs would not initially support me. I leaned forward and used my momentum to force myself upright. If I was going to leave it would have to be now. I knew it was the cowardly thing to do but I had to leave before the rut came on again. On unsteady feet I headed for the door.

I stood at the door with indecision pushing me to go and tugging me to stay. I turned around just as she walked back into the room...