John left that night and replayed the scene over and over in his mind trying to figure out what it all meant to him. He lay in bed unable to sleep and found his cock getting hard every time he thought of what Sophie did to him. His mind seemed to scream at him that what happened was insane and that no woman would ever dictate when he would or would not cum. It seemed utterly ridiculous to think about but in the back of his mind he knew he wanted Sophie to do whatever she had done again. That feeling he had under her touch was so intense. No woman he had ever had sex with had made him feel that good and he had not even gotten his pants off.
He had to scurry home to avoid being seen with a big wet spot on the front of his pants. He could hardly think clearly knowing he wanted to run right back over and relive the entire scene again. He thought about just jerking off to make his ever present erection go away so he could get some sleep but as he started rubbing his cock he wondered what he would say if he were to go back to Sophie and ask her to cum again. Would he actually go back? If he did would he be able to convince her that he had not cum since he had last seen her if he finished himself off right now? His hand suddenly stopped moving and he rolled over just hoping to get some sleep. He eventually drifted off despite his sexual frustration.
The next couple of days were difficult ones. John managed not to jerk off but the scene with Sophie seemed to replay constantly in his mind. He walked through the days with a hard on half the time with his brain clouded in a sexual haze. He would get home from work and see Sophie's car and think again and again about going over there and knocking on the door but he managed to direct himself to his own door. It took a really cold shower and half a sleeping pill to get a good night sleep.
After three days John was sitting inside his townhome watching television and as he glanced out the window he saw Sophie walking to her mailbox. She looked to have just gotten home from work as she was dressed in a navy skirt, a white blouse, dark blue stockings, and three inch heels. Without thinking he got up off the couch and walked out his door going directly toward Sophie.
She turned as he approached and smiled wanly at him. John stopped at her reaction to seeing him thinking to see the same smug smile she had given him upon their parting the other night but this was something different. He knew she was somehow bothered with him.
"Um..hey Sophie," he finally managed to get out.
"Yes John," she responded in askance.
"Look the other night was kind of...well weird to me and I'm not really sure..."
"It's okay John," she quickly interrupted," it was my fault. I get a little intense sometimes is all."
John could not believe what he was hearing. Where was the cunning vixen he had been held powerless to the other night? If he did not know better he would think he hurt her feelings. "Look Sophie I didn't mean anything by it...I just never really experienced I guess would be the best word...well nothing like that," he tried to make his statement seem as apologetic as possible.
Sophie looked at him for a moment before she said," let me make it up to you John, why don't you come in for a beer," she quickly held up her hand as he started to speak," I promise just a beer, no hanky panky."
John felt something inside like the air going out of him and was not quite sure how to react and Sophie must have noticed because a curious look came over her as he replied," um sure. That would be nice." At that she began to walk back to her place and John followed. He found himself looking at her legs encased in nylons and felt a faint stirring in his groin as thoughts of sex with this woman flitted through his head.
