Standing in front of the full-length mirror, she tosses back her blonde mane as she examines her reflection with a critical eye. Thirty-nine years old and dreading forty with a passion, she decides that dropping twenty pounds would make a huge improvement to her overall look. She cups her breasts with her hands and lifts them slightly, remembering a time when they were perter but much smaller and gives a nod of approval at their current fullness. Skimming her hips lightly she delights in their curviness as she turns and notes the same curviness to her ass. Losing weight would mean losing these womanly curves that had taken her so very long to achieve. In her twenties she had been as thin as a rail and had no hips to speak of at all. No, given her newfound eroticism and state of horniness, the curves are better she decides with a nod. If there were any benefits to getting older, it was the positive changes to her sexuality, her new openness in admiring the opposite sex and her willingness to be open with her own body. Pity her husband's sex drive was waning now, she thinks as she slips the silky black mini-dress over her head and down across her naked body. She rubs her nipples through the thin material and eyes their erectness approvingly before spritzing her neck and cleavage with her favourite musky perfume.
It has been over a week since the man who has been the primary player in every sexual fantasy she's had for years declared his love for her. At first she was content to revel in the memory of his erotic touch as he explored her body in the dark theater. This lasted only days however, and her annoyance rose with each passing day that she did not hear from him. Now it is time to take matters into her own hands she thinks as she slips her feet into her sexiest black high heels before grabbing her keys and bag and heading for her car. She knows where he is now – his weekly routine is predictable, even if he isn't. He drinks for hours at his favourite club every Friday night before heading home to his dutiful wife just as he has done every Friday night for years. There are definite advantages to having been his friend all this time she thinks grimly.
Pulling into the crowded parking lot, she can feel the throb of the heavy bass as the sound of an upbeat number drifts outside. Locking the car she heads toward the entrance with confidence and determination. Let him tell her now he doesn't want her as much as she wants him she thinks as she steps inside the door. Her eyes adjust to the light as she scans the crowd. She spots him almost immediately at the bar staring down into his beer as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders and the answers to all his problems lie at the bottom of the glass. He has not seen her yet and she takes a moment to admire his broad chest and strong arms as she remembers herself enfolded in them when they had sat in the theater, spent from their exploration of one another. She feels the tug at her heart at the same time her clit throbs at the memory. She knows she is wet and she knows she longs to love this man again and again.
Moving from the entrance she walks toward him on trembling legs just as he glances up and he is unable to hide the smile that suddenly transforms his face. That sweet, sexy smile she thinks, as she approaches him, it makes her knees weak and her resolve falters. He turns toward her and grasps her hands tugging her tenderly toward him. She finds herself standing between his legs and the height of his stool affords her an unobstructed view of his hard cock straining against his jeans. She tries not to stare but he notices her looking and once again gives her his best sexy smile and she sees the lust in his eyes. "It happens every time I lay eyes on you," he whispers softly in her ear as he pulls her closer to the bulge in his pants "I have been hiding it so long that last week still seems like a dream." She can feel his hardness now through her dress and feels the reaction of her body to his. The last of her resolve melts and her anger is forgotten as he stands and pulls her toward the dance floor just as a slow song begins to play.
Wrapping her in his strong arms and molding his body to hers, they begin to sway to the music. She inhales the scent of his cologne and shivers with desire at his closeness. His fingertips move lazily up and down her arms in tiny teasing strokes and she groans with pleasure as her pelvis begins to move involuntarily in time with the slow, seductive rhythm of the music. Her hips are against his hard on and he moans and pulls her closer still as he matches his pelvic movements with hers. Never has anything felt so perfectly right to her she thinks as the music and lights and all the other people on the crowded floor fade to nothing in her mind. This is where she belongs, in the arms of this man she has loved so long, responding to his touch, feeling the liquid fire between her legs. The music ends too soon and she feels empty as he steps backward with her hand still in his. He pulls again, more gently this time, and she willingly follows him through the back door and into the mouth of the dark alley beside the club. The inky darkness and the promise of privacy beckon to them in their state of heightened desire for one another.
