A huge thank you to ngnx for his editing assistance and thoughtful suggestions.
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This is the third chapter of The Cougar and the Anaconda. Candace is a 49-year-old partner in a Dallas law firm who is having an affair with Jeremy, a 24-year-old law student who will be starting at another big firm, Parker & Hanson, when he graduates. Candace's husband and Jeremy's wife are oblivious to the affair. Enjoy!
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DAY 10: PLAY DATE
After a long day at the office, I walked toward the train station. If Jeremy was free, I would hop on a train with him. If he was still out at a dinner put on by his firm, I would call an Uber. I texted him.
"Hey babe. Just left the office. Where are you?"
"Heading your way. Red line. First car. How are you?"
"Rough night."
He texted me back the lyrics to Sade's "Nothing Can Come Between Us." Skimming the words, I felt my heart catch. I loved when he quoted Sade to me. I loved when he was romantic.
But I was fighting with myself not to fall for him. People and years stood in our way. Our time together was light and joyful. I feared that love would weigh us down with guilt and angst.
I had to lighten the mood.
I checked the train schedule then shot him back a smiley face. "See you at 9:44."
The wait for Jeremy's train took forever. But he looked amazing. It had been days, and I had forgotten how well he filled out a standard navy pinstripe. Fuck, I wanted him so bad, but we were stuck on the train with no plans in sight.
Jeremy came on stronger than usual, figuring that no one noticed us at this late hour. As it was, most of our colleagues drove, and the few who didn't drive took a car home if they had to work late. We would have done the same if we didn't want to see each other so badly.
"Hey lover boy. How was your dinner?"
"Painful. They trotted in a bunch of scantily clad women who couldn't hold a conversation to flirt with us male summer associates. The one female associate spent most of the time in the restroom. I wanted to hide out with her instead of flirt with a bunch of bimbos. A couple of the guys went home with the eye candy. Somehow that didn't appeal to me."
"So you're saying it went well."
"I'm saying, "I wouldn't want to lay or ever love with another.'"
"What?"
"Sade, I Couldn't Love You More, 1992. Don't you listen to the stuff you turn me on to?"
"Yeah, back when I was in high school. Now I'm playing catch-up with you."
"You make me laugh. I love you."
Everyone else had gotten off the car, and it felt like all the air had been sucked out. I love you? Was that a millennial expression that I was 25 years too old to take casually? Or an "I'm tired and drunk and not thinking straight" thing? Or a sentiment Sade sang about? I didn't want to burden him with questions. With Britney and the baby and the in-laws and the new firm, he had enough people demanding things of him.
But his exuberance was making it hard for me to keep a level head.
I wrapped my fingers around the loosened knot of his tie and pulled him to me. "Kiss me."
Looking hungrily into my eyes, he cupped my cheek and stroked my chin with his thumb. I loved when he held me like thatβit made me feel cherished, like he was thinking about exactly how he wanted to kiss me.
He took his time bringing his head down to me. By the time his lips were on mine, I was half in his lap with longing and need. His tongue tangled with mine, a slow, sloppy kiss that made me wonder if he was drunker than I first thought. He must've heard my thoughts.
"I know what you're thinking."
"What?"
"You think because I'm kissing you slowly and saying, 'I love you,' I must be drunk. I'm not. I'm in love with you and getting tired of not admitting it."
"Don't you think it complicates things?"
"Yes. But what's the alternativeβpretend I don't feel the way I feel? Stop seeing you?"
I didn't like either alternative. And I wasn't ready to be straight about how I felt. So I masked my feelings behind a deeper kiss, pulling him closer to me and moving our torsos together.
My soft breasts pressed into his firm bulk beneath his suit. We reached for each other's thighs at the same time, him to stroke the tender skin where my skirt had ridden up, me to tease near his groin. I kneaded the firm muscle of his upper leg and felt him tense, then relax beneath me. He scooted down in his seat, which brought our bodies closer together and gave me full access to him.
I wasn't ready to tell him how I felt, but maybe I could show him. I scooped my hand beneath him to wrap my fingers around his balls. Appreciating their weight in my hand, I rubbed my thumb along the fabric and bounced him in my palm. He groaned when I reached for the zipper.
"Candace, here?"
"There's no one else in the car. And who's getting on at this hour?"
He watched my hand as I brought the zipper down. "This brings back memories."
"It never hurts to have two memorable train rides."
I snaked my hand through his pants and his boxers to get to my goal. His cock was firm and hot, straining at his clothes.
"Mind if I pull this out?"
"Do anything. Just don't stop."
I threaded his cock through the holes in his pants and admired the feel of his bare dick in my hand. He made a feeble effort to shield himself with his jacket from any imagined prying eyes, then succumbed when I pushed his hand away.
"You have a gorgeous cock. Let me enjoy the show."
"Oh god. I'm not going to last."
I could see that. His veins stood out in sharp relief, and he was hard like the granite he becomes just before he orgasms. I spit on my hand and rubbed his precum on my palm, then used it to lubricate long, solid strokes, taking his head with a firm grip then sliding to his base with an easier one. I kept the rhythm slow, trying to prolong his pleasure.
He tilted his head back as if to relax, but I saw his chest move faster. It was hard to hear over the sounds of the train, so I leaned my ear toward his mouth. His breath was labored, punctuated by soft groans. He was struggling not to come. He opened his eyes and looked at me, a dopey grin playing across his lips.
"Do you have a tissue?"
"No, but I've got something better."
I ached to take him in my mouth. He nearly bucked out of his seat when I bent over and tasted him. He was salty and sweaty after a long day. I had been with him at that time of night before; he was musky, not far from bedtime, and I loved his primal scent at that hour.
He had had a rough day. This was one of the greatest, most soothing gifts I could give him. I took him as deep as I could, then let the saliva settle around his shaft as I dragged my mouth back to his tip. Sucking on his head, I set a fast tempo on his shaft, pushing him where I knew he was about to go.
He grabbed my shoulder and doubled over in the seat as he came in my mouthβlong, hot shots that ricocheted off the back of my throat and settled on my tongue. He went off repeatedly, squeezing my shoulder with less and less force each time. My instinct was to swallow, but then I had a better use for his cum.
After he spent his last load, I lifted my head and caught his eye. I slid my mouth open to reveal his pool of cum cradled on my tongue just before I swallowed.
"Oh fuck."
"See? We didn't need a tissue."
Groaning, he choked out, "Why do you do this to me?"
He grabbed me by the back of my head and drew my tongue in to his mouth. When we came up for air from the kiss, he zipped himself and gave me a filthy grin.
He pinched my chin between his fingers. "My turn next."
"You're going to give me a blowjob on the train?"
"Very funny. I meant, it's my turn to surprise you next. I want to do something special for you."