Friday 21:08

It’s been a tough week, not as tough for some, but still. The work crew are gathered in their favourite pub, it’s a monthly ritual now, talked about before and after the event. Those twin rays of light at the end of the month, piss-up and pay day.

Catching up over a few drinks together is a rare pleasure. Some colleagues have young family and responsibilities, others over-jealous partners. It’s not that most of the gang aren’t there though, and tonight is no different. He clocks her walking in, she makes eye contact and goes to the bar, where she’s met by a couple of girlfriends.

Friday 22:30

The volume is deafening, the band started playing about an hour ago, and as the volume rises it seems like the flow of drink is keeping up. Those with family start to say goodbyes and leave. It always takes forever for them to actually go. He gets up to the use the WC and she’s walking the other way, they brush fingers, quickly. It’s the first physical contact since the afternoon, hopefully a signifier of what’s to come.

She continues to her seat at a table with a couple of friends, and leaves a space for him, although she doesn’t hold out much hope. Her friends don’t really know him that well, they’ve asked questions at work, but she bats them away. There’s not much to say as far as she’s concerned, it’s just a casual thing.

Friday 22:48

Ankle to ankle they sit next to each other, he felt emboldened by the alcohol, so here they are, sharing space again. He wants to feel her, like really feel, but can’t so instead rubs his thigh against hers, it’s imperceptible to anyone but them, but feels so good, naughty, in front of her friends. It’s not as if they’re doing anything wrong, but the thrill of keeping it secret - she secretly suspects everyone knows - is irresistible.

Friday 23:36

As they walk down the high street hand in hand - friends have gone ahead already - in itself an acknowledgment of this ‘thing’ between them, she stops suddenly and grabs his hand. They hug, her smell, the warmth of her body, the relief of holding each other breaks the tension that has been building all night. She knows she’s a good kisser, and the proof is his hardening cock, she can feel the bulge of it lying upwards against her thigh and reaches down, rubbing along the length. She’s getting turned on too aware of the wetness down there, and now is the not the time.

Saturday 1:30

Was a club a good idea?

All will become clear sometime tomorrow afternoon. It’s loud and hot, and he’s not much of a dancer. She’s been on the floor with her girlfriends for what seems like hours, he’s been talking with a friend and working through a bottle of Bourbon. The song ends and she’s nowhere to be seen, he noticed some guy trying it on, and then there it is, for the first time, a pang of jealousy. Ridiculous. Didn’t they say casual? how many times? The heart wants what it wants, and although it’s not love, he feels something more than just the physical attraction. Telling himself it’s the booze, he brushes it aside and orders another drink, failing to see the irony.

She is in the toilets at this time, with her mates of course, having a drunken conversation about him. Does she love him? How long has it been going on? and various questions of an intimate nature. Those ones she chooses not to answer, it seems like a betrayal of them somehow. What they have is growing beyond just the sex, and at the moment she’s not sure where she wants it to go next, and that’s ok.

Saturday 3:16

The club kicked out an hour ago, the last few stragglers make their way home ignoring the warning to keep quiet. The street echoes with a bad rendition of a bad song, but they don’t notice even though the window is open.

With jeans down around her ankles, she’s reclined on the edge of the bed holding her panties to one side.

Ass perched, legs spread wide and top pulled up exposing her breasts, his hand presses the skin just above her opening, as he licks and sucks at delicate pink folds. Before he can insert a finger she pushes his head back, and laughs gently ‘slow down’ The view of him is arousing and also strikes her as vaguely ridiculous. still wearing his shirt but having removed his trousers, cock hanging from his boxers, the glans shiny and taut. After a beat or two she’s ready for him, and this time he does use fingers, watching as the knuckles disappear, deeper, deeper. She grinds and he pumps, now and again a lick to keep her on the edge. It’s a beautiful sight, and he can’t help touching himself.

Shuffling backwards he pulls her jeans off completely before standing, the waistband of underwear now forced outwards. It’s uncomfortable, but not for long as reaching inside she grasps the veiny shaft and pulls it free, looking appraisingly before licking the drop away and sucking him in. The head fills her mouth, and as she’s sucking and bobbing a trickle of saliva escapes her lips. They’ve discovered they like it messy, which is fortunate considering how wet they make each other.

They have to fuck, it’s been building for days, that deep ache that only goes away when you get not what you want, but what you need. He’s on his back, holding himself at the base, thick and throbbing - he can see it twitch with each heart beat. She lifts a leg over his, and hovers for a moment to work his tip through her lips, feeling the heat of him and the cool air on her glistening sex. Sitting gently, pussy opening around him, there’s a moment just before the head of his penis clicks into her when it feels like he might go over, thankfully the edging pays off.

Saturday 3:49

She’s sitting down on him when she first climaxes, they’re hugging and engaged in a deep wet kiss, connected at hip and mouth. The clench of her sets him off next, and with a guttural moan and an uttered fuck! he fills her.