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At Sam’s apartment I do my best to restore a platonic distance, settling on a straight-backed chair instead of the cozy looking sofa.

He hands me a glass of water, dropping two small white tablets in my palm.

“Maybe this is the wrong time, but I don’t want to miss my chance to say what is on my mind, ” he says, crouching on the corner of the coffee table across from my chair.

“I want you, Stacey.”

I blush at his directness. “I don’t know what to say…” I stammer.

“We’ve known each other so long now. Friends. We’re just good friends.” I remind him, a little too adamantly.

“But don’t you feel it too?”

He kneels down on the floor next to the chair, resting a hand on my knee. I feel his eyes settling on the hem of my dress and the dark space where my thighs rest lightly against each other, betraying the throbbing excitement below.

I know all I have to do is meet his eyes and I will lose my resolve. I look down at my hands gripping the water glass in my lap. Holding it like an anchor, to keep me from drifting  into the deep water of my fantasies.

He takes my hand and brings it to his lips, gently kissing it.

“You are so soft, so delicate. And you smell so good.” He murmurs.

I stand up suddenly, banging my knee against the coffee table, the water splashing over the edge of my toes and onto the rhinestone accents of my sandals. Straightening my skirt, I reach for my bag.

“Hey, you just got here.  Do you have to go?”

How could I be so stupid? What am I doing here? I start toward the door.

“I knew this was a bad idea. Sam, we can’t do this.”

“Stacey, please stop. I saw you tonight and couldn’t take my eyes off you. I can’t stop thinking about you!  I want to be with you…Christ, I just want to sit and watch your face. You are the work of art. Fuck the gallery, fuck the business.”

I pause at the door, but only for a moment.  I’m afraid if I turn around he will see the truth in my eyes. That I want him, too.


 

Back at home, I finally slip out of my heels and pour a glass of merlot. I wander into the bedroom, setting the glass on the vanity table. The mirror shows my flushed cheeks, dilated pupils. My lust for Sam, like a shameless stain on my reflection.

I unzip my sheath, letting it fall down my shoulders and delicately soothe the rising warmth of my body with my fingertips.  I squeeze my breasts with both hands, pushing them together and up, like a bouquet of flowers. My thumbs and forefingers gently graze my nipples to attention.  Easing out of my dress, I let it fall to the floor. With my legs free now,  I open them wide, slipping an eager hand inside my soaked panties.

 

I imagine an alternate ending to the evening:

‘Heated breath warms the back of my neck as he moves in closer. I press my face against the cool surface of the door as my bag slips from my hand onto the floor.

His left arm winds around my waist as the fingers of his right hand inch the zipper of my dress down with every kiss along my spine. My stomach flutters with excitement and urgency as the fabric peels away from my shoulders, my hips, my legs. I step out of the skirt as if in a dream, the weight of his body, the press of his hardness against the small of my back, pinning me still. Rooted to the  spot, I couldn’t leave if I wanted to.’

A shudder– and my nipples harden at the touch of my practiced index finger gliding easily over that sensitive peak between the slick valley of my wetness. A little cry as I thrust my hips forward, increasing the pressure and momentum as I move back and forth, dipping down and up again.

‘He parts my thighs easily, fingers exploring the satin edged outline of my swollen sex with one hand while caressing first one then the other breast with his free hand. ‘

Dizzy with desire, I recall his hungry tongue that night. I feel myself getting even wetter at the thought. I shove my panties down my thighs and dip two fingers inside.

 

‘I imagine his strong hands, hitching me over the edge of his bed…his cock teasing my opening, rubbing against my hard little bead and stroking it tantalizingly down and back up again. Me, rocking back against his groin, urging him further…faster, more. ‘

 

I sprawl across my bed now, breasts pressed against the mattress. Kicking my panties down one leg and onto the floor, I arch my back, raising my backside high and spread my legs wide apart–as if willing him to come through that door at any minute. And finish me.

 

Groaning loudly into the bed sheets, I manage two more fingers, working them slowly in and out–imagining how he would fill me up with his hard cock and once inside, how he might clutch at my hips, guiding me deeper…steering me over the throbbing waves of my orgasm. How he might ease a tentative finger between my buttocks, to my most sensitive places. How he might fill me then.

 

I buck and shudder my whole body against my hand, thighs tensed, knees locked straight. I let out a long, stifled cry  with the sudden force of my climax.  Contractions  of pleasure pulse through my body, vibrating to the very tips of my toes.

 

Collapsing, exhausted, arms and legs akimbo, I drift into black, dreamless sleep.

 

To be continued…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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