Woring Relationship

The tram rattled and shook as it passed over the junction at Ponds Forge, filled to the rafters with early morning commuters, close packed, limited standing room only. She stood holding the rail, her back to me, my right hand round her waist. As the tram climbed the lower reaches of the city of Sheffield so my left hand rose under her skirt.

Chrissie was enjoying it I knew. It was planned, daring, a thrill to touch her in this way in a public place. By the time the tram had pulled into the Cathedral stop my hand had reached her stocking top, found flesh, the joy of all men from the first sticky days of puberty. During the steep rise to West Street so Chrissie managed to open her legs slightly, swaying with the throng around her. I held her firmly with one hand, found how wet she was with the other. Her head came back to rest on my shoulder, her eyes closing as fingers moved deeper.

As we approached University I stopped fingering her and put both arms around her waist and kissed the nape of her neck. A gradual halt and we waited our turn to disembark. A glance around to see who had noticed us if anyone at all as we pushed carnal craving a notch higher. Probably in her late twenties a woman stood opposite us just staring. She knew, she saw. I made eye contact, put a finger in my mouth and slowly sucked on it. The taste of my lover.

We worked at the same place Chrissie and I. We'd tried hard to not reveal to our fellow workers, relationships in the workplace frowned upon especially as Chrissie was my managers manager. The pair of us had flirted like crazy at first, subtle comments, deft touches, crafty looks, smiles. Funny how eyes convey messages whilst the lips dare not speak the truth. Why two fourty-somethings would act like teenagers heaven only knew. Give us acne and we would have been the part.

You must remember your first kiss? It makes your head spin doesn't it? We were disputing something or other as we climbed the stairs at work, me looking up her skirt at the best legs you've ever seen, Chrissie knowing it and liking it. She suddenly stopped, span round and there she was, in my arms. A kiss so deep. Months of pent up desire went into that kiss, she almost choked me with her tongue. When at last the clinch was over we both stood panting and smiling. Smiling. Never stopped for the rest of the day but oh how that day dragged when all we wanted was to get away and be together.

An email, short, succinct with instructions, managerial directions. Got to the station at different times but boarded the same train, found spare seats and settled as the unfamiliar landscape speed past en route to Chrissies abode. I kissed her ear, then bit it gently. She exhaled, breathless, then smiled, a knowing smile, took my hand and held it on her lap throughout the journey.

Her apartment was sharp, meant for a single person, looking like time to spare had been spent on it, no rich mans toys, just good quality things, Lorna Bailey porcelain, John Ditchfield glass. A collector. No pictures of family or friends, no memories to adorn plain walls. It reflected Chrissie - organised, forward thinking, confident.

A black cat purred lazily at her feet, hungry, desiring attention.

"Later kitty".

She led me to the bedroom, took me by the hand, said nothing. We didn't kiss, no touching or groping. She just undressed and I just watched, a slow methodical, teasing as if teasing were needed. Breasts strong from being so fit. Legs long and sleek with or without the stockings on. She stood naked before me.

"You'd better get undressed too. I can do this alone but I'd prefer it if you joined in".

She smiled, put a palm to my cheekbone, kissed me on the forehead and then got on the bed. I was a virgin again, a very, very nervous virgin. A man in this state has no style, undressing a fumbling act, nakedness a concern.

"And your socks please" she laughed. As I obeyed she reached over to the bedside drawer and selected a condom from the many within. I grew cold with worry as she fitted it snugly over my erection. She bade me join her on the bed and I lay down beside her.

"Hello you. It's taken a long time hasn't it".

With those words she straddled me, took my member and inserted it into herself. I have to be crude here and I apologise but there is only one way to put what happened next - she fucked me.

What little I offered to proceedings left me weak and when she finally slid off of me she cleaned me up a little. When she departed the room I felt like a rag doll sprawled haphazardly on the crumpled bed. A very happy rag doll it must be said.

Her return saw her with two mugs of tea, toast and marmalade. I took in her nakedness with respect. Not overly tall but with long trim legs, a tight waist, firm breasts for a 44 year old and nipples that sat up and begged like some excited puppy. She was fit.

Her red hair indicated just what she was - fiery, sometimes dominant. I knew she had a history with troublesome lovers but it was not my place to enquire. My own past record in relation to commitment had begun and ended at turning for a date on time. Better to have loved and lost? Not really.

Crumbs on the bed but I felt at home amongst them.

"Ice cream?" It was a smiling question and she didn't wait for an answer. Instead I watched her butt swagger out of the room only to watch her breasts bounce back in what seemed only a few seconds later. Not only a collector, a planner too. Everything that Chrissie did had a purpose, had been thought out, was the reality of a dream perhaps.

I must admit that strawberry was my favourite flavour. She spoon fed me the chilled but melting ice cream until she decided that it was perhaps wasted on my palate.

Melted enough she poured a little over my penis. Two sensations at once - first, this is cold. Secondly, it's going to get warmer!

Never for an instance did she take her eyes off me as she licked and sucked. I grew in her mouth. It didn't take many spoonfuls before I was fully erect and, with protection expertly applied again she did it again. She fucked me. Later, yep, you're right!

The morning came early. I had that early morning feeling with no idea of where I was or what was happening under the sheets. She was already dressed and sparkling. Her mouth was warm and moist, she moved slowly maybe aware of how sore I was down there. When it comes to oral sex men think they dominate. So wrong, oh so wrong. The woman will make you cum just when she wants you to. Chrissie did that, made me shoot into her mouth. She swallowed, moved up, kissed me. I tasted her, I tasted me.

When we departed her apartment Chrissie looked a million dollars, I looked like a tramp, and the cat was still hungry, the only one of us without the cream. For some unknown reason I missed work that day, called in sick, sore throat. It was half a body away from the truth.

From that day I had a lover. A mad, passionate lover. As often as we could we met, we made love. Weekends together, weekdays just making secret signs to each other at work, perhaps brushing past each other, a tease for sure. But their was one thing that Chrissie liked most - planning for the next time, taking risks, adding to the sheer rush that came from having sex.

In the woods, in a store, in a café. If not lovemaking then touching, feeling each other, kissing deeply, having people watch us. Just driving with Chrissie in the car was a madcap experience. I lost count of the number of times she gave me oral as I was driving along. The expression on the faces of people in passing traffic as she bobbed up having done with me. Some strange woman staring at you with cum dripping down her chin!

The touching up on the tram had been a long talked about thing. No point in doing it if people didn't see. We'd once made out on a half full train and no one had said a word. On the tram the people were closer, standing, could smell our love, could almost touch it for themselves.

Strangely within minutes of alighting from the tram Chrissie had said something that was to signal the gradual slow down in our sex life. At first I wasn't sure that she was serious, that she understood the implications. But she knew what it meant, meant every word and there was only one answer I could give.

She asked me to marry her.