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Accidental Meeting

By: Ashson



Here's what happened. I was out in the country just cruising along the main highway. I had cruise control set at a hundred and I was just sitting back relaxing, enjoying the scenery.

A little way off I could see where another road joined the highway. I thought it was fairly safe to assume that it was an unmade road as I could see a plume of dust rising from where someone was coming along it in my general direction.

I didn't give a thought of any possible danger. I'd noted the traffic, I knew that I had right of way, I knew that there'd also be a stop sign on the dirt road. I'd be long past before whoever it was made their turn onto the main road.

Silly me. I tend to forget that there are idiots out there and that most of them drive.

As I approached the intersection this little red coupe came blasting out of the side road. Forget about observing the stop sign. This character didn't even slow down, just taking the corner at full bore and then fish-tailing all over the road as he tried to straighten up.

I'd recently had my pickup serviced and had had a full brake overhaul at the same time, so when I stood on my brakes I really came to a halt. 

Still not fast enough it turned out. I managed to stop before ramming the bloody idiot but he managed to collect me when his fish-tail blasted back across the road and swiped along my bull-bar.

I was already stopped and I just waited for the coupe to pullover so we could discuss the incident. I doubted that there was any damage to my pickup but someone else was now driving without a rear bumper.

I hopped out and wandered around to check the bull-bar and it seemed fine to me. Some red paint on it but that didn't matter. I turned to see what the idiot in the coupe thought of the damage to his car.

Ay, caramba! and other expression of surprise and sincere admiration.

The idiot was female and what a female. Blonde and the sort of figure to set any man's blood to boil on sight. And she definitely knew what she had and how to present it. Tight little shorts and a tight little top, both looking as though they were painted on. One glance and I knew all her vital statistics, and they were truly vital.

I smiled as she came over, quite ready to forgive her atrocious driving. Hell, I hadn't been damaged and her insurance would cover her own damage. I was all for forgiving and forgetting and exchanging names and phone numbers.

Blondie came bouncing up to me, smiling.

"You blithering moron," she shrieked. "Now look what you've done. What sort of idiot driver are you? Road hogs like you don't deserve a license. Look what you've done to my car."

Not quite the apology I expected but I kept my calm.

"Excuse me," I murmured politely, "but you failed to stop at the intersection, you turned the corner at an excessive speed, you lost control and fish-tailed your car and I was actually stationary when your car hit mine. When you consider this I think you'll have to agree that you were at fault, not me."

"Me!" Blondie was practically dancing with rage.

"Only a male chauvinist would say something like that. I was on the main road and you rear-ended me. Look at the damage. It speaks for itself. It's obviously your fault. And you'd better be insured because I'll be claiming against it."

I shrugged and produced my card, scribbling the extra details on the back of it. Then I asked for her details. I didn't need them, she pointed out. Even a moron like me could see that my road-hogging gas-guzzling monstrosity was undamaged.

I was starting to get a little irritated with Blondie. I didn't think for one minute that she didn't know it was her fault, but there was no way she was going to admit it. I was also getting tired of the abuse for an accident that wasn't my fault.

Restraining my temper I pointed out that she had my details and that she was legally required to give me hers. To emphasis the point I kicked over the bumper bar lying on the road and took down the registration number.

"And how am I supposed to drive with the car looking like this?" Blondie demanded, still not giving me her details.

"The same as before," I told her. "Badly. Just toss the bumper bar into the car and maybe the garage can glue it back on. Details, please."

I don't know how long this would have gone on but I caught a lucky break. A police car rolled up and pulled over and the cop got out.

"Afternoon, officer," I said, as he approached. "Can you tell the little lady that she is required to give me her details? She has mine."

"He's right, Cindy," the cop said. "Give him your details and then we can discuss what happened."

Muttering to herself, Cindy wrote down her details and handed them to me. Then she turned to the cop.

"It's obvious what happened," she practically snarled at him. "I was driving along minding my own business and this moron rear-ended me. Then he had the gall to say it was my fault. You can see I was hit from behind."

The cop turned to me and I explained what had happened. Cindy promptly accused me of lying. 

The cop finally shrugged.

"So far it's just your word against hers," he pointed out, "and the damage is to her rear-end. Any sort of proof about how it happened."

"If you look at her car you'll see it's covered in dust from that side-road," I pointed out.

Blondie was fast on the uptake, I'll give her that much.

"I never said that I didn't come out of the side-road," she snapped. "If you hadn't been speeding there'd have been no problem."

"In addition," I continued, "I have a dash-cam that will show exactly what happened and it will also show my speed as I approached the intersection. Would you care to review it?"

The cop decided that he would care to. After viewing it he smiled at Cindy, apparently highly delighted. He was almost laughing out loud as he wrote her a ticket, while she was muttering under her breath.

"This is all your fault," she told me as she snatched the ticket from the nice policeman.

"Hey, you should be grateful that the officer turned up when he did. If you'd kept on going the way you had been I'd probably be spanking you by now."

"There, you see, Cindy," said the cop. "We are good for something besides handing out fines. But you'd better be polite to this gentleman from now on because I'm leaving and I won't be able to prevent a future spanking."

The cop was still smirking as he drove away. I politely asked Cindy if she needed a hand loading her bumper bar, or would she like me to load it into my pickup and drop it off at the next garage.

You'd think I'd made an improper suggestion the way she reacted. All previous abuse she'd given me paled into insignificance compared to the tongue lashing she now directed my way. The politest epithet was moron and she made it plain that she laid all her current misfortunes at my feet.

I didn't say a word, but I was getting hotter and hotter. Dear little Cindy knew that she'd stuffed up, both in her driving and her attempt to foist the blame onto me. Now she was blaming me for her stuff up. I'd finally had enough.

Now the sensible thing would have been to just drive off and leave her to stew in her own bile. It was just too bad that I was feeling too mad at her insistent idiocy to do the sensible thing. One step and I was next to her, spinning her around and laying a pair of strong spanks to her bottom, one for each cheek.

"It's obvious that you don't learn unless something is explained to you very carefully," I said. "I am now going to do that explaining."

Cindy had shrieked when I'd spanked her and gone slightly pale. She went even paler when I snapped open the catch on her shorts and dragged them down. Before she could get her nerve back and start yelling at me again I'd spun her around and bent her over the back of her car.

Suspecting what was about to happen Cindy squealed and tried to cover her bottom with her hands. (A very nice bottom it was, too. Those skin tight shorts hadn't needed to provide support. It was trim, taut and terrific, just as it was.) I took her hands in one of mine and lifted them up away from her bottom and then proceeded to tan it.

I explained where her errors were, giving a spank or two for each one, having her repeat them back to me, giving her another spank to encourage her to answer my questions.

I covered bad driving in detail, rules regarding exchange of details, being polite to strangers, not lying to the police and accepting help graciously.

By the time I was finished her pretty little bottom was glowing a nice red and she was crying. (More frustrated anger than remorse I thought.)

Finished with the spanking I straightened Cindy up and turned her to face me. She now had a quandary. Did she hold her hands to her smarting bottom to comfort it or did she cup them in front of her to cover her private parts? She finished up dithering, not doing either while she seemed to be trying to find words to describe me.

I, on the other hand, knew exactly what I was going to do. Bending down, I took hold of her shorts (and panties) and pushed them lower, lifting her feet to take them right off. Standing again, I took hold of her top and peeled it down off her breasts, delighted to see that she hadn't bother with a bra. Her breasts were beautifully shaped, white with a nice strawberry red tip. Her nipples crinkled and stood out, even though I'd only touched them with my eyes.

For some reason she seemed a little slow in catching on to what I was doing, and Cindy was effectively naked before she could register a protest. Now she didn't know whether to cover breasts, pussy or bottom, and she just stood there, eyes wide.

At this stage I stepped back a little, but Cindy didn't even make any motions to suggest that she was going to cover up. She was just staring at me, apparently unable to believe that I'd both spanked and stripped her. 

When I pulled down my zip her eyes flashed down to see what I was doing and she kept staring while I freed my erection. And she kept staring. I had to reach out and tilt her head back to me to get her attention.

I drew her over to my pick-up and opened the rear door. Cindy didn't say a word. She just climbed up onto the back seat and waited for me to join her. (She gave me an amazing view as she climbed in, I'll tell you that.)

Getting in, I found Cindy crouched on the seat, bottom up, looking back at me over her shoulder. Pulling the door closed behind me I moved over her and in. My cock slid into Cindy as though I'd been doing it every day of my life.

Cindy gasped as I entered her but her bottom was pushing back hard against me as I drove forward. My hands moved around her, taking hold of her breasts, feeling her hard little nipples pressing against my palms. 

Happily positioned, I fucked her. I didn't mate with her, or make love to her. I fucked her, plain and simple, and she did the same to me.

I drove into Cindy as hard as I could and she responded by pushing back against me just as enthusiastically, eager to taker all I could dish out.

I mauled her breasts and she writhed against me, pressing them harder into my hands. I bounced against her bottom and her bottom bobbed up to meet me, matching everything I could do. And still I wasn't satisfied.

Without disengaging I took hold of her leg and lifted it high, twisting so that Cindy rolled over under me. Her leg dropped down, wrapping around my waist, hastily joined by her other one.

Now as well as pumping frantically against her and mauling her breasts my mouth was ravishing hers, our mouths mashed against each other, tongues tangling. I could feel Cindy's nails scratching at my shoulders. My mouth moved, savagely biting on her breast, feeling her biting against my neck as I continued to pound her.

I could feel that I was about to climax and I drove in harder. The way I was feeling I didn't care whether Cindy was going to climax or not, and I was positive she felt the same way about me. 

The fact that we both climaxed at about the same time was pure coincidence, which did not lessen the pleasure at all.

Afterwards we were both completely relaxed and we got along quite amiably.

Hear my cynical laughter. Afterwards, Cindy was still a complete bitch, demanding that I load her bumper and take it to the garage. Not the next one, but the one she nominated. She'd lead the way and would I please try to keep up.

"Not," I pointed out, "if you're going to speed. Do you think you can observe speed limits?"

"I can, if you insist," she snapped. "I didn't think you'd worry about them as they weren't covered in your little lecture on the road laws."

"I'll include it in the next lecture, any time you're ready to get one," I told her, which calmed her down a little. 

Anyway she took off and I trailed along behind. It had been quite an interesting diversion.

Accidental Meeting



I originally posted this story -- ACCIDENTAL LOVERS -- on Literotica, in May of 2011, and was delighted to receive almost 20 comments; all mostly good, although I was admonished by some to check my editing, which was a bit 'wanting'... A few asked for "Chapter Two" and I regret that it's taken 2-1/2 years to actually get down to producing the second part -- THE AFTERMATH. As the story is consecutive over two days, I have taken the liberty of repeating the original here, with the second following immediately, so that I can maintain continuity. I trust you will find them satisfying.

Stu Roberts.

ACCIDENTAL LOVERS

"Damn Jenny" he thought, as he swung the Lexus into the street from the underground parking lot of his office building. "Why would she always piss and moan, when she had known damned well that he simply had to complete the commercial today?" She'd known for the past few days that the client was giving him - and the Agency - their last chance to retrieve what had been a low-rating ad for the product-line, a cheap generic gas-reducing pill for those afflicted with over-indulgence of crap food! Now, he'd bent the cradle of the car-phone, as well as damaged his desk phone with the frustration of her voice-mails to him.

God, he was angry. Jenny, his live-in lover had become really bitchy over these last months; Hell, it was worse than when he'd been married to Sally. At least she'd consoled herself with her own infidelities, finally confessing that she didn't like to play the lonely wife, always waiting, and the tennis instructor had consoled her in more ways than one!

He smiled. Was it a smile? No! More a grimace. A sardonic reflection of his thoughts. He almost wished Jenny would stop relying on him, and move on. She always threatened that she had offers "up the wazoo" by various itinerant guys. Okay he thought grimly, staring through the windshield at the falling snow, then take them up on their offers! He'd be well rid of her! He knew that when he got home, he would be in just the mood for a fight, and Jenny would pay for his resentment that he felt towards the client who had insisted that the commercial was changed to his way of thinking, and then - when it didn't work - calmly announced that the three million dollar budget was in grave danger of being shopped!

Of course, his chief had gone berserk, blaming all and sundry staff - especially the creative director -- HIM! - and not accepting that he'd told them, all along, that the client was not the creative whizz-kid that he thought he was, and - if he was so goddam good - what the hell did he need the agency for? Thank Christ he'd gone to Europe on some other business for a week or so; they'd at least have the chance to redeem themselves with the newly revised commercial.

His mind rambled. The day's shoot hadn't gone too badly, and apart from seven phone calls from Jenny, he should have been happy that he'd - almost - had his way with the revised scripting. Now the thing had gone to bed, and he only had to await the results to come in from tonight's first airings on the eastern area regions. Now, to get home and sort out this fragmenting, disastrous affair! "Christ!" he thought, wincing. "We don't even have sex anymore, so why the hell are we still hanging on?"

His 18th floor apartment was across town on the swankier side of Chicago, just off Riverside Drive. On summer evenings, he could sit on his patio, drink in hand, and gaze at the lights of the downtown buildings down river, and be off in a dream world, planning fresh ads, or - even better - thinking of nothing at all. But, now the thickening snow swirled against the car, forcing him to switch the wipers to high speed, in an effort to clean the rapidly settling white stuff from the windshield. Red lights ahead slowed him to a crawl, being careful not to over-brake and lose control. Now, he was alone in the street. The canyons formed by the buildings disappeared ahead of him, lost in the gusting blizzard. He glanced at the car clock: 8:35 p.m. Shit, at this rate it would be ten before he'd get home.

In the right hand door mirror, he saw a City Bus approaching, and then the lights ahead went to green. Prodding the accelerator lightly, his wheels scrabbled for some grip through the packed snow, chinking the car slightly sideways. The bus rumbled slowly past him on the inside and he ended up twenty yards behind it, with the bus driver then pulling to the left slightly, blocking his view and throwing up even more muck than he'd had to contend with until now. The car phone shrilled, startling him.

He punched the button and yelled at the overhead mike. "Yeah!" He KNEW it would be Jenny!

Her whining voice squawked back at him petulantly. "Where are you Alex?" Jeez! Did she never stop?

"I'm in the goddam car, stuck in a snowstorm and trying to get home! Now, fer chrissakes, gimme a break! I'll BE there, okay?" He didn't even wait for her reply, simply punching the off button before she could respond. Shit! He'd now moved up closer to the bus, but was bombarded again with slush thumping against the windshield. He decided enough was enough! He'd be turning right at the end of this block and the bus was blocking what was left of his view, so he swung to the right, into the bicycle lane, knowing that he had less than a couple of hundred feet to go to the turn. And, there she was!

The Rolls Royce was stuck about six feet into the road, coming up from the building's underground garage; with less than sixty feet to go he instantly slammed on the brakes, subconsciously feeling the pulsing of the anti-lock braking as he tried to swerve left to avoid it, but all to no avail. The Lexus simply plowed on over the icy base-pack. His last recollection, before he was blinded by the air-bags deploying, was the wide-eyed look of horror on the girl's face.

Luckily, he'd always worn seat belts, a habit formed from when he rallied in Europe. In those last seconds before he clobbered the Rolls smack against the front left fender, his mind transported him back to when he'd up-ended the Rally Ford Escort in Wales in another blizzard, crashing over a ninety-foot drop, but getting caught in the trees, the car hanging upside down, stuck firmly thankfully, while he and his navigator hung by their belts, looking at each other. Charlie's comments still rang in his ears. "We're gonna have to be real careful getting out of this!"

He was relieved as the immediate shock of the impact vanished to see the girl in the Rolls clinging to the wheel still, probably in shock herself. The snow swirled around the cars, and - as he sat thinking about the next move - the visibility became blurred; the wipers simply couldn't handle the pressure of the snow building up. "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!" He cursed, glancing around to see if there was anybody else near, but the street was empty, the bus having vanished into the swirling snow. They were on their own.

Cranking the door open, with just a mild crunching where the fender had been pushed slightly back, he exited, immediately returning to lean over his seat to collect his overcoat. The girl sat still, transfixed seemingly, in the driver's seat of the Rolls. His mind raced; "Oh Shit!" His insurance company was going to be really pissed about this. Then, as he walked around to the passenger side of the Rolls, he realized selfishly, that it was an older Silver Spur model, possibly from the early eighties, and not the $200,000 job he'd seen in the last glimpse through his headlights.

"Are you all right?" he yelled at the passenger window. The girl, possibly still stunned, nodded imperceptibly. "Are you sure?" Again, the feeble nod. He was aware that he was beginning to look like a damned snowman as the blizzard was not letting up in any way. Damn!! He was suddenly freezing. "Do you mind if I open this door? - can I come in?" She stared at him for what seemed like minutes, although it was only about five seconds. Then, turning to her door, she flicked a switch and he saw the chrome rod of the door lock rise upwards. He pulled open the door and sat swiftly into the seat, slamming it as snow fragments blew in, as a mini gale.

"Christ, I'm sorry about that" he said, wiping his eyes and trying not to brush too much residual snow into the car from his shoulders and hair. "What were you doing half-way into the road?" Not accusatory, but he was looking for some defense.

"I, er, I was going to try and beat the bus" she muttered, staring at him, "but then decided it was too risky." Her voice started to rise, now somewhat defensive of herself. "Where the hell did you come from?" Her anger made her eyes blaze, even in the shadows of the car's interior, and he was suddenly aware that she was beautiful! Possibly mid-thirties, and the coat she wore certainly wasn't from the five-n-dime! The black turtle-neck sweater hid what was obviously a long, slender neck, rising above the fur-trimmed collar. He felt mildly intimidated.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault. I was covered in spray by the damned bus, and was due to turn" - he gestured to their right - "at the end of the block and simply didn't expect anybody to be there." He almost looked sheepish to her, and actually was embarrassed that he'd been so stupid. "I know I'll get this sorted out for you; I'm fully insured, so there'll be no problems, but..." he paused, "does this thing still work?" He pointed to the hood of the car, now aware that the engine was still running because heat was still coming through the vents, melting his surface snow and dripping all over his coat and the seats. He flicked a hand through his hair again, drenching himself with melting snow. It dripped down his collar, and he shivered with the shock.

She replied that she didn't know, but as his car was still jammed against hers, she wasn't going to even try and move the Rolls until his was clear in some way. "Okay" he said, "I'll try and back mine off, so you can try it." Once outside, he pulled his coat around him and slushed to the Lexus, briefly checking the front. It was crumpled badly, the lights were shattered and both front fenders were creased and pushed back slightly. "Damn!" The snow had not abated and he hoped he could start his car again. He'd left the ignition on. But, internally, the car was okay. Switching off the lights for the moment, he turned on the hazards; there could be another fool like him coming up and the last thing he needed now was more damage!

The starter churned and noises came from under the hood indicating damage internally, but he didn't care. "Start damn you, start!" And it did, finally, revving under his right foot as the chattering noise went away. Various lights glared at him from the dash but he ignored them as he pulled the shifter back into reverse, and the car jerked slightly. The rear wheels bit into the snow, spun and then grabbed at the road surface, pulling the car back about four feet. The noise of wrenching bodywork came through the half open door and he was aware that the car was dragging some bodywork with it. But the Rolls didn't look too bad, which somewhat relieved him.

He reversed a few more feet and then, leaving the engine running, he got out and went to the front of the Lexus. Steamy water dripped from under the front, hissing as it hit the snow. Glass and fragments of the plastic front lay littering the ground and he saw that the fender rubbed against the left front wheel. "Damn again!" He wouldn't be driving anywhere tonight in this car! Pulling his collar up against the swirling snow, he went to the driver's side of the Rolls, and the girl buzzed down the window a few inches. "I'm sorry" he said, "my car's wrecked and I'll need to call a tow-truck, or leave it off the road here. Why don't you see if you can move yours?" He backed away to look at her wheel. The street lights were fairly bright, and although the snow made inspection difficult, he could see well enough.

She obviously engaged reverse, and tried to move the car back onto the sidewalk exit from the garage. The wheels spun a little and then the car traveled a few feet before she braked. Alex walked beside her, noting that the wheel rubbed against the damaged fender. She too, wouldn't be going anywhere! "I can't turn the wheel" she said through the lowered window. "Can you see anything?"

"Yes" he said. "There's too much damage for you to drive. Can you straighten up and park it back in the garage?" She looked over her shoulder hesitantly.

"I'm not sure. I'm not that good at reversing this car." Her eyes were glistening as she looked at him, and his heart thumped just a little faster.

"Okay, look, move over and I'll back it down the ramp; at least we can get out of this damned weather!" He noticed that the garage door had lowered behind her and they'd be stuck if she couldn't open them. She slid across into the passenger seat, and he was treated to a flash of inner thigh as her coat slipped open. Knee-high black leather boots added a contrast of the paleness of her skin. He got behind the wheel trying not to be distracted. Snow swirled into the car around him, and he fumbled on the armrest for the window button, shutting out the freezing wind that was blowing through.

He looked at her, apologetically. "I really AM very sorry that I was so stupid" he said. "I guess it's been a bad day, and I simply wasn't thinking." Pausing, he looked at her with concern. "Are you sure that you're okay?"

"Yes" she said. "I'm all right now. Just a bit dazed I guess. I think I banged my head on the window, as I've got a headache coming on, but..." She noticed his frown; "I'll be okay." She turned around to look behind the Rolls, and reached up to the passenger visor, clicking the button on the remote unit. The clanking of the door could be heard distinctly. "Come on, try and see if we can get back in, and then discuss what to do with your car."

The Rolls was difficult to straighten, but he managed -- with a bit of brute force -- to get the car aligned, and slowly reversed into the blackness of the underground garage entrance. As they tipped into the down-slope, lights shone through the gloom, and within minutes they were safely on the main floor. He turned to look at the girl. "Where now?" questioning where to park.

She pointed over her right shoulder and said "Next to the elevators, just there. Number 5." Alex reversed a couple of lengths and then, accompanied by scraping noises, pulled the car into the slot and switched off the motor. They both let out sighs, and he turned to grin at her.

"I'm sorry. I really am sorry that I've caused you this trouble. Where do you live? Can I call a cab for you?" As he spoke, he fumbled in his jacket pocket and brought out a business card. My name's Alex. Alexander actually, Norton's the last name. Here." He passed across his card as he studied her in the yellow glazed lights from the parking stalls.

She briefly read the card and offered her gloved hand. "I'm Sandy. Sandy Barrett. I live upstairs, and -- well, I guess we could go up there and order you a taxi. How about it?" He nodded.

"I'd like to get my car out of the way, as some other fool may collide with it. Is there any chance I could park down here tonight, and then, when things are cleared tomorrow, I can get the repair guys to collect it?" She thought for a moment.

"That shouldn't be a problem. I'll tell George our maintenance man what's happening." She reached up and pulled the door beeper off the visor. "Here, take this and you can get your car in, er..." she looked around, "er, see if you can park it over there." She pointed to a stall about four cars away from them. "That's a spare for my Father, and he's out of town right now." She paused again. "I'd better get the Rolls repaired before he returns. It was his gift to me for my birthday last year, and well, he'll be upset about this."

After some discussions, he left to walk up the ramp, buzzing the gate open again so that he could tramp back in the snow to his, by now, almost obliterated car. It took him over fifteen minutes to get it driven over the ramp and down into the garage and parked. He slammed the creaking door, pocketed the keys and grabbed his brief-case and cell-phone, not bothering to lock it. 'Let some bastard steal it' he thought. 'That'll solve a lot of problems!' By now, he was thoroughly wet. Covered in snow, water, and looking very second hand, he made his way to the elevator. Now, what had she said? Penthouse? Hmmm!

The elevator whooshed him to the Penthouse in mere seconds, announcing its arrival with a muted gong, as the doors slid wide. As did his eyes! 'Wow' was all he could think. Marble walls, an antique table with an even more antique Greek vase were in his immediate view; a blood-red carpet held his footfalls to a mere squelch of waterlogged shoes as he stepped out, looking both ways in seconds. She said "Turn right" -- so, he did, walking through a marble-clad foyer to a pair of ten-foot-high doors. He pressed the buzzer and stepped back.

A minute passed before she came to open the door, looking quite diminutive against its bulk. "Hi. Did you get your car in okay?" she asked. He nodded, unable to speak. She'd left the turtle-neck sweater on, but, having shed the coat he saw that she wore a tight fitting black skirt, and those black high-heeled boots. Her cheeks glowed, possibly from the cold that she'd been in, and yet again...? His mind was suddenly on other things. The way the sweater clung to her, nipping in at the waist, encouraging his eyes to wander to her breasts, perfectly outlined below the fabric.

"Hello There?" she asked, mocking him. He flinched, realizing that he'd been staring.

"Oh God! I'm sorry.' He seemed to be constantly apologizing, and fumbling around now was not his style. Yet, he was almost over-whelmed. "I didn't realize that I guess, well, I know, I was staring."

She smiled. "That's okay. I guess I've gotten used to it over the years. I've been very lucky to be blessed with some looks..." She paused again, and then took a noticeable deep breath. "Are you coming in, or shall we talk through the door?" Her eyes, now mischievous, smiled across the threshold at him, until he moved forward.

"No, let's not try that, okay?" He too smiled, and then realized that he was standing on very expensive carpet, and he almost jumped back, aware of his dripping coat and ruined shoes. "Look, I'd better dump these somewhere, or I'll screw up your carpet as well as your car!"

She led him down a hallway, and into what turned out to be a closet-cum-laundry room. "Here" she said, taking his coat from his shoulders, "hang it up here and it should be okay. It'll drip onto the tiled floor, and- if you want -- you can leave your shoes here on the heating duct; they may just dry out some, while you make your calls. I'll be in the kitchen; I guess you'd like some coffee? -- or tea?"

"Umm. That'd be nice. Coffee. Thanks" he said, watching her as she turned and walked down the hallway, almost silent on the carpeting. He was in Love! Stunned, and stupid! Just like that! She'd been extremely casual, now having regained her composure, and being on her "home turf", she was, in effect, in control. He shook his head and melted snow dripped freshly into his collar. That cooled his ardor! Standing there in his socks, he opened some cupboards until he found a towel with which he dried his hair and wiped the inside of his collar, after loosening his tie. Finding his comb in his jacket, he tried to make himself more presentable, and then following her footsteps, made his way to the kitchen.

The apartment was huge and obviously very expensive. Drapes and pictures hung everywhere. The furniture in the lounge area was large and looked inviting. The dining suite -- seating for fourteen, he counted -- was also luxurious with candelabra standing on the table's highly polished surface. Lighting was minimal, creating a warm glow through the whole suite, an atmosphere which reeked of comfort and wealth. He made quite a bit of money as the senior creative director for the agency, but this was waaay out of his league. 'How the other half lives' he thought. The brighter reflection through a doorway, indicated the kitchen. She turned as he entered.




Accidental Meeting



"Well" she said. "Not quite the drowned rat I knew from earlier." But she was smiling, so there was no hidden bite to the comment. "How do you like it?" He looked across the centrally placed island.

"Hot and strong" he replied, knowing full well that there was a double-entendre in the reply, and, that she caught it also. This could be fun! She ushered him back into the lounge area with its recessed floor and deep seating, into which he almost sank as he sat down, it was so soft. She placed the tray on to the low table in front of them, and turning, brought a phone to him. It had been concealed in one of the arms of the huge u-shaped sofa. "Maybe you'd better call a cab so that you can get home tonight?"

His heart fell; he couldn't explain why, but suddenly, something intangible just slipped away. "Yes" he muttered, looking at his watch. Christ! 10:30 already. Jenny would be beside herself. Oh Shit! Which to call first?

He tried a cab company. No luck. After three tries to different companies, the answer was obvious. Nobody was out tonight! With drifts reported up to eight feet in some areas of the City, and most roads now impassable, he was plain out of luck. Sandy said nothing as she sipped her coffee, and heard his mounting frustration grow with each call. Damn and Blast! Finally, he called his apartment. Jenny answered at the first ring.

"Where the hell have you been?" she bleated into the phone not giving him the opportunity to explain. "I'm out of my mind with worry. Why do you do this to me?"

"Oh Jesus, Jenny. I've had a small accident in the snow, and I can't get a god-damned cab. So, you'll just have to wait 'til I get there" -- he paused, waiting to send in the barbs that he felt brewing in his heart... "and that may not be tonight!"

"Well, where are you now?" came the demand down the line. He paused, suddenly not wanting to say where he was.

I'm, er, I'm in a coffee shop, and I'll try one of the local hotels for a room. Look," he said in a slightly calmer tone trying to appease her concerns, "Look, you go to bed and I'll call you in the morning, when I know what the hell I'm doing, okay?" She mumbled something into the phone and then hung up, with no Goodbye, or anything. He almost banged the phone down, but realized it wasn't his to destroy! He looked up, seeing Sandy with a slight smile on her face.

"Hmmm. Not a good reception then? Wifey a bit mad?". He relaxed and told her "No, it wasn't a 'wifey' but that his room-mate -- he hated the euphemism -- was, well, she was giving him a bit of a hard time..." And, then it all came out. Even as he talked he wondered why the hell he was unburdening on this girl, this stranger. Why did he suddenly feel compelled to let her know that he was trying to get free of Jenny. Why his day -- his whole damned week! -- had been screwed up. He found himself rambling about his clients, and this one in particular who had caused him so much trouble with the re-makes of the commercial. She simply listened as he unloaded, stooping to pour him a second cup of the coffee, while he rambled on....to a stumbling stop. He looked at his watch. Jesus! Forty minutes had gone by.

"Christ, I'm sorry. I've been prattling away, and, well, I didn't mean to dump on you." He thought more. "Were you going somewhere when we, er, met?" She smiled a thin smile.

"Yes. I was on my way to tell my unfaithful lover that we were through!" She paused, her eyes downcast. "You see, I now think he was after me for my money, and I learned today that he'd been caught in an hotel a couple of days ago, with a girl-friend of mine. He didn't know that my Father owned the hotel, and well, daddy saw them, checked it out, and learned that Ben had been shacked up with Sherry for over three days, when he'd told me that he was on assignment for the paper; he works for the Tribune, and Sherry's one of the P.R. girls..." Her eyes flicked down again, and he saw tears welling there. "I really thought he loved me, but, well, I guess it's the poor little rich-girl syndrome coming through again." She added some venom to her voice.

"The bastard was stupid enough to try and bluff his way past daddy, and then hope that nothing would be said. Daddy called me from the plane on the way to a meeting, and he was fuming, but I told him I'd handle it, and he was not to worry any more." Again, she looked down at the carpet, and he felt slightly embarrassed.

"Hey" he said, very softly. "I'm sorry. These things happen. I've got similar troubles -- although I don't think Jenny's screwing around. It's just that, well, I've been working really long hours, and we're under such pressure from this one client, that I've not had the time -- or the desire -- to attend to her needs, and we're really incompatible; it's simply that, after my wife divorced me -- she ran off with the tennis instructor" -- to which Sandy smiled -- he paused, "I know, that sounds like a bad Hollywood movie script -- Jenny bounced into my life and almost took over, and, well I guess I was happy to be controlled for a time." He paused again as she brushed a tear from her left eye.

"It's the classic case of 'from the frying pan into the fire'... He shrugged. "I always seem to be apologizing." His words faltered as he looked at her. "You know, this sounds trite, but Ben must be an asshole for cheating on you!" He paused as she reddened slightly, and he thought he'd gone too far.

"Listen, I'd better try and get some transport out of here. You're not going out now, are you?" His concern was for her welfare now, knowing that the snow would be really deep, and driving, in whatever form, somewhat treacherous. She stood, and walked to the windows, pulling aside a drape and peering through the windows.

"No," she said almost resignedly. "I guess I'll wait until tomorrow. This evening's been dramatic enough for me." He pulled himself out of the sofa and walked around to the window where she stood. Peering where she looked, he couldn't see a thing. She said "The snow's really coming down. You'll have a helluva job getting out of here. Would you like me to get George to see if he can arrange some transport?"

Alex stopped his thoughts where they were. His hand held the drape wider and again, he peered out, but the snow blowing against the panes was blinding. The tune 'Baby, it's cold outside' drifted into his head, and he smiled slightly. She caught this, and raising an eyebrow said "Okay, what's the thought?" "Oh, it's just an old song about getting stuck in the snow, and she has to leave but..." -- he broke into the tune 'ahh, but it's cold outside'... Neither wants to be alone or out in the bad weather."

She looked up into his eyes, taking a minute to assess this man, this stranger, who suddenly exuded an aura of sexuality that she recognized instantly. She stepped back in shock, as if she'd been pushed, knocking her leg against the coffee table and almost falling, but he caught her quickly by the right arm, pulling her back to vertical instantly, and against his chest. They both stood for seconds in that pose, and she couldn't move. He continued to look down into her eyes, noticing that the light blue was now a pale gray, and giving out a message that he couldn't fail to understand. Slowly, he bent to kiss her.

He half expected that she'd struggle, or even draw back and smack him, but neither happened. A stiffening of her body gave way to a release against him as his mouth covered hers. Opening his eyes a fraction, he noted that she had hers closed, and, as he savored the freshness of her, he became aware that not only was she receptive, but that she was, very slightly, pushing against him, a feeling growing stronger as the seconds passed. He pulled back from her, and she fell into the space he created, leaning towards his chest. Opening her eyes, she looked back at him, before straightening up.

"Well" she said, matter-of-factly, but somewhat huskily. "I didn't expect that!" She pulled her leg up, and massaged the calf where she'd banged it seconds before. But, she didn't let go of his arm. Didn't pull away. Didn't berate him -- 'who the hell was he to come in here and take advantage of her friendship!' No. It was all very civilized, and he became confused by her non-action.

Still expecting a slap, he flinched as she pulled her arm from his. She stepped back, but looked at him with the merest flicker of a smile. "It's okay, I'm not going to scream" she said. "In fact, that was rather nice. I haven't been kissed like that in many a day" -- and then, rather bitterly -- "in fact it's been a damned long time since I've been kissed at all, other than when my Father goes traveling!"

Alex paused, not knowing which way to handle the situation, but aware that he too, hadn't kissed anybody "in the heat of passion" recently, and his groin was stirring, reminding him of this fact. "I'm sorry" he said; "I didn't mean to over-step the mark but you were, well, looking, how can I say" -- he paused again, studying her face and how she might react to the comments on his lips -- "but you were very vulnerable, and I wanted to kiss the sadness away." They stood for a few seconds, and then she moved into his space, coming close to his chest again, so that he could now smell the aura of her presence. She held his arm again.

"That's okay" she said. "Don't apologize. I liked it. If we have to meet by accident..." she accentuated the last word, "then maybe we should take advantage of the situation. Would you kiss me again, to reassure me that I liked it?"

He smiled at her, this time a warming, beaming smile that stirred her blood. He went to speak, but only croaked out the sounds "I'd love to" because his voice too, became husky at the feel of her in his arms.

She moved, putting her arms around his neck, and they kissed lightly, until their bodies began to wake up with the flames of lust that they engendered. He moved his lips around her face, and she turned her face to alternate her closeness to him. Issuing a slight moan from her throat, she rubbed against him, very gently, feeling him grow at her groin, and knowing that this could be dangerous. She threw caution to the winds and pressed her lips against him, inserting her tongue quickly, in small darting movements, tasting him as he opened up to accept her; his lips held her tongue very lightly as they melded together, not wanting to release her, as if he could capture her by this very act.

He had been holding her around the waist as their passion ignited, but, without thinking -- it being a perfectly natural thing to do -- he brought his left hand up to caress her right breast through the tight sweater. The softness, enveloped in a satin bra, became harder as his fingers brushed lightly across her nipple. Her left hand, which had been stroking the back of his neck, suddenly tightened as the eroticism of his touch brought her sexuality awake. She breathed in his ear, a soft mewing sound that only increased his own sexual urges and he pressed his lips against hers, as they continued to kiss, now much stronger, more urgent, more deeply. She wanted more. She sensed herself losing control; the shock of the evening's accident, her fright, had completely dissipated, to be replaced by a growing fire in her that -- although she'd never done anything like this before -- she knew it was right!

This stranger - and he was a stranger -- was somewhat like her, lost and alone, and in need of comfort. Her own needs became important to her, and then this over-riding thought made her start to think rationally for a moment. WHO was this guy? What if he hurt her or worse, maybe rob and kill her. She was alone here and what the hell was she doing?

But he had, by now, in these seconds, begun to kiss her neck; both his hands now caressing her breasts, bringing the nipples to a hardness that almost hurt. Slowly his right hand ventured up around the edges of the sweater, lifting it, so that he could caress her skin as he moved his hand to her left breast. She was losing herself again, her body reacting involuntarily to his attentions. She clung to him, both arms around his neck, her eyes flicking open to stare over his shoulder at, but not see, the Gauguin painting on the far wall, its hooded light lending a glow to the picture that resembled her own feelings, warm, and very fuzzy. She began to feel herself ready for him. Now, she just wanted sex!

He too, was lost, but now only in her. Her scent, her movements against him added a drive that he too was unable to control. His body took over, his mind not working apart from assessing the subtleties such as the smell of her hair, how long and soft it was. How she was obviously willing now as she pressed against him. How they were swaying against each other, as his legs trembled with the sudden acceleration of his sexual drive. As he lifted the sweater up, his fingers slid under the edging of the bra and he lifted the material away so that he could feel the delicious warmth and softness of her. Flipping the bra over her breast, the fullness almost fell into his hand, and his thumb automatically caressed the growing nipple, flicking it, rubbing it in small circular motions until it stood hard against his palm. She shuddered and pulled away.

Breathing hard, she stepped back from him, backing her legs up against the coffee table again. They were both trapped in the space between the table and the wall. She spoke softly, a lump in her throat and her voice husky with emotion. "Why don't you stay here, tonight?" A pause. "Unless you need to get home?" He responded by pulling back from her a little, his own breathing ragged from the desire that he felt.

"Would you like me to leave?" A simple statement, and she knew that this was the cross-roads he was offering; she could turn either way. His chest heaved beneath his shirt and she could detect a sheen of perspiration on his brow. "I'll try again, to call for another cab, if you..." But her finger was already on his lips, as she shook her head very slightly. No.

"I don't do this often" -- she paused, smiling. "In fact, I've never done this before. You're a complete stranger here, and yet..." Again, another pause; a moment in which they both understood. She pulled herself up, against him, to whisper in his ear. "Stay, make love to me. I could do with some friendship, and although I can't explain why you're here, you are here, and -- as you said earlier -- 'Baby it's cold outside!'

His laughter surrounded them, and breaking the seriousness they'd both felt just then, he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her to him. "I'd LOVE to stay the night! I'd also love to make love to you. He turned, grimacing at the windows hidden by the long drapes. "And, as you said, it's real cold out there!"

She broke away from him, pulling him by the hand. "When I'm cold, I usually like to take a long, hot shower, to get me ready for bed. What do you say?"...and she pulled him out of the lounge into a hallway, that -- it turned out -- led to her sumptuous bedroom suite. There were some stairs ahead of them, and, as she led the way up still holding his left hand, he couldn't resist touching the hem of her skirt, lifting it with his right hand to catch the soft skin of her leg. It was obvious they were going to make love, and he wanted now to abandon all thoughts of anything else in his mind. He would be here, for her and himself only!

She paused, not turning, as his right hand caressed her thigh from under the skirt. One leg raised on the higher step meant that he had access to the warmth that emanated from under her clothes, and his fingers pressed around her leg, until reaching up, he felt her buttock. No Panties? Letting go of her hand, he brought his left hand to match his right, raising her skirt fully up to the waist to see that she was wearing slim, bikini briefs. Smiling now, he moved to hold her by the waist, her flesh hot to his touch; she didn't move, her body trembling slightly in his hands.

Holding her tighter, so she wouldn't move, he knelt down on the stair, moving his face close to her skin. His tongue flicked out and licked her, just under the right buttock; she still didn't move, although he felt her stiffen under his tongue, the muscles contracting.

"We're not there, yet!" she said, but the sound was muted and slightly hoarse.

Between more licks, and mild nips to her skin to which she flinched, he replied, "No, but we're getting there!" As he expanded his kissing and licking of her backside, she responded automatically, moving herself back towards him, and impishly jiggling herself a little while she remained standing with one leg above the other on the stairs. Letting go of the skirt, his right hand moved between her legs and he inserted a finger under the rear of her panties, sliding up to her front, where he discovered just how ready she was! His finger slid, almost too easily, into her moistness and she flinched, arching her back as he boldly moved his hand and fingers to caress her sex.

She groaned, a throaty moaning, and he felt her right leg physically tremble as he -- ever so gently -- found her sexual center. She turned, her eyes glazed now, with a lust that was building up almost against her will as she reached backwards for his hair. She grabbed him with her right hand and pulled him upwards. "No more, now. Wait!" She giggled as he released the pressure on her sex and brought both hands to her backside. He pushed her gently ahead of him.

"Okay" he said. "Lead me on now, because if you don't, I'm going to take you right here on the stairs!" She looked at him over her shoulder and letting his hair go, she reached down to grasp his hand. Feeling the wetness on his finger, she purposely pulled him up beside her and placed the finger in her mouth, tasting her own sweetness. Her passion rose, and she now just wanted him. To feel him inside her. To have the satisfaction of close body contact. To have the release that only he could provide for her. Right now! They moved quickly to the top of the stairs, and she pulled him into her bedroom.

The room was dimly lit, pale rose-colored walls and drapes lending an intimacy to the scene that was like a movie set; she stopped, turned to the wall, adjusting some switches. Dim lights came on beside the bed, again in rose-colored shades. The main lights dimmed to almost nothing and soft music came through from hidden speakers, a lush orchestra enveloping them in a cocoon of soft waves and the distant, haunting sound from a clarinet.

She turned, and, closing the doors behind them, said "This is crazy, but I want you" and here she stressed the word "urgently." "But, I want for us to enjoy each other with care and affection. Will you shower with me, before we make love? I'd like to be, well..." she blushed slightly, lowering her head, at a loss for words. He rescued her before she could say anything else.

"I'd love a shower; it's been -- well, let's say a helluva day -- and I need to wash off the dirt, and the cold and the grime and...well, lose the outside world for tonight, if that's okay with you?" Nodding slightly, she turned and sat on the bed, holding out her right leg.

"Help me take off these boots then!" A fake petulance came through and they smiled as she flopped down, lying back across the bed, somewhat provocatively. He knelt and unzipped the inside of the boot, carefully pulling it off her. Reaching for the other leg, he repeated the movement, pushing both boots aside as he knelt there. She lay for a moment, and then, pushing up on her elbows, she stared at him, her breasts almost challenging him as she lay there. Her skirt was above her knees and instinctively, he placed both his hands on her inner thighs, under the hemline of the skirt. She looked at him again without speaking or moving to take his hands away. He leaned forward, pushing at the skirt until it was above her groin, folding up on itself, revealing the bright red panties that he'd only felt before. He smiled, but said nothing, simply leaning forward to hook his fingers under the thin panties.




Accidental Meeting



"You don't wear these in the shower, do you?" he asked, mildly mocking. Before she could answer, he had slipped them from her legs in one quick movement. Not losing momentum, he dropped his head to her groin, nuzzling in the dark recess of her sex, all the while moving his hands to grip hers and pull them so that she flopped back on the bed. He nuzzled into her and she responded by opening herself up to him, to feel the softness of his tongue as it caressed her with gentle flicks. She lay silent for the moment and then reacted with an almost hissing intake of breath as his tongue found the center of what would be their universe for the next hours.

He slipped his tongue gently into her, sliding up along that sweet crevice. She arched in reaction again as he touched her clitoris, ever so lightly, but enough to send more shivers through her. He tasted the juices that now started to gush from her and within seconds had placed his whole mouth over her, sucking, licking and pulling gently with his teeth at the soft folds of skin. His arms were holding her thighs tight against his chest and she was suddenly trapped, his tongue now working her into a frenzy, alternately arching her back, raising her head from the bed as she felt the arrows of fire scorch her very soul.

It had been months since she'd last made love; Ben had been traveling a lot, and they hadn't been able to consummate their love. "Hah!" she thought now in a moment of lucidity, between the flashes of fire ripping her body apart, "he was too fucking busy screwing around, but I'll show you..." But, her thoughts were lost as rain on an open fire, disappearing in seconds as Alex's tongue played her senses to the extreme. She struggled against him not wanting to win, not wanting to lose these feelings that were more a strange reaction to the sexuality building almost too quickly. She didn't want to come yet, but....but....

It hit her like a lightning bolt. Wham! She knew she was capable of searing orgasms, but this took her completely by surprise, exploding from her depths into a wracking, moaning, throat-burning growl. He'd lifted his arms off her legs and had been caressing her with his right hand. The fingers had caressed, then stroked strongly, then inserted into her to violently probe her innermost depths, awakening a screaming lust that had emanated from deep within her throat in a roar of ecstasy and she shook from the tidal wave of emotion that saturated her body.

Slowly, she calmed down, he laying his mouth against her sex, but in a gentle way, not kissing or actively working her; simply locked onto her as the tremors subsided. She had flung her arms back over her head and had been grabbing at the pillow near her left hand so that, as she came, she had squeezed the thing against her chest unable and unwilling to control the orgasm. Now, as she slowly recovered, she looked across her naked stomach at him. His eyes sparkled with mirth, his grin hidden into the folds of her, as she'd closed her legs tightly against his ears during her orgasm. Relaxing, she allowed him to raise himself up, and his chin glistened with her juices, as he smiled at her. "Wow. That was quick!" A pause. "I guess you needed that more than you thought?"

With a sheepish smile she nodded. "Oh God! That was something else!" She tried to raise up and he had to pull her into a sitting position as he knelt back onto the floor. Then he realized his knees hurt slightly, so he stood.

"D'you fancy that shower now?"

She nodded silently. "You may have to carry me, as I don't think my legs will work." And she continued to sit there, recovering, as he undid his shirt, pulling it off. Then, unselfconsciously, he leaned down, pulled off his socks and then undid and removed his slacks. His colored boxer-shorts were tight across him, as he was still aroused by the sight of her, despite the sweater and skirt shoved up to her navel, as she now lay back down across the bed, from exhaustion.

She watched him now through slit eyes, admiring the physique. He must be forty she thought, but was in great shape, his stomach muscles still taut and his upper body well balanced, slim and yet healthy looking. He pointed to her.

"C'mon. You look like you could use some soaping over." And, he leaned to pull her up off the bed. Making her stand there, he pulled the sweater over her head tousling her hair, and then, as he reached behind to unhook her bra, she unzipped and slipped out of her skirt. Almost naked, they stood close to each other, and he pulled her to him, holding her gently against his chest, as she took in the maleness of him, the scent, the aroma -- probably of the sexual antics they had just indulged in, and yet -- there would, she knew, be more. Suddenly, she couldn't wait! The tiredness had gone, but the pleasure of the quick orgasm had not devastated her; it had simply aroused the knowledge that she wanted more!

"You're not wearing boxer shorts in MY shower" she stated, looking petulantly up at him. "It's simply not allowed!" -- and with that, she dropped to her knees, pulling at the sides of the shorts, which slipped down as he moved slightly to open his legs.

Her face was level with his cock as she pulled them down and delighted in the appearance; he was softer but still aroused, and she knew that she could reverse things in no time. 'Fair's fair' she thought to herself. Taking him in her left hand she brought him to her, noticing the glistening moisture at the end of him, which she longed to taste. Now it was his turn!

Slowly, she took him in her mouth. Swirling her tongue around the end of his cock, she tasted the slight saltiness of him as she then opened her lips fully, and slid herself over the length of him. He moaned, a hand holding her head as if to steady himself, but also to mildly force her to do more. He was soon getting bigger, she could feel the growth under her lips and she worked with a steady motion to suck him fully, or changing, to run her lips and tongue down the under-side of the shaft, and then to revert to sucking fully again with a mild chewing motion, working him into a frenzy.

So, there they were, he standing, arching forward, his whole being centered on her passionate lips, she, either holding him by the buttocks forcing him into her throat, or holding and caressing his balls, stroking them gently and kissing them as she worked her way up and down his sex. His cock was glistening with their juices, and she was oblivious to anything else, only concentrating on the aim of pleasuring him to the extreme, as he had her. His legs trembled as she held his buttocks, and she almost forced him into a thrusting motion. She knew he was near the edge, and she wanted to take him; have him explode in her. And, it would happen soon!

Another moment, and she knew he was over the top and all she wanted was to feel that gushing explosion of him. His hands now held her head and she dug her nails into him, holding him as he came in a shuddering, shaking guttural roar that had him holding on to her as she actively sucked him dry, grabbing him with one hand as she swallowed in great gasps, his very essence.

As he finally came to a shaking, almost sobbing end, she let him slip from her mouth, and he was able to sag to his knees on the floor. As they fell together in the aftermath, he said "Jeez Sandy, that was fabulous!"

She grinned impishly at him. "Now whose legs don't work?" But, she leaned forward again, spreading her knees either side of his and they clung together to maintain, if nothing else, their balance. But, it was now a reassurance. This may not be love; it may not last through tomorrow, but for tonight, this room was their hideaway and they were in love if only for the release of their own frustrations and needs.

After a few minutes, she whispered in his ear. "Shower's waiting." Helping each other up, he looked at her and grinned. "Damn. I guess I needed that too!" and she smiled, now comfortable with this unexpected but delicious man. In moments she had the shower streaming hot water over them. The tub was a "roman" affair with a wide oval base and Jacuzzi jets. She'd lit some candles and they were enclosed in the shower with a flickering orange glow. Gently, she took some scented soap and started lathering him down, silently, just by gestures, making him raise his arms and then, a leg at a time, while she paid homage to his manhood in gentle caresses, which soon had him showing signs of revival, as her hands played with him. She grinned up at him.

"Hmm. Life in the old dog yet?" she murmured, and he pulled her up to him, kissing her gently as he wrapped her into his arms, their soapy bodies sliding against each other.

"Not so much of the 'Old'!" And he slapped her bottom gently.

She arched into him, and biting his lower lip very gently, she said "It's my turn now." Looking into each other's eyes, they found hands and she passed him the soap. Still holding her close, he lathered her back, and rubbed all the way down from her neck to her backside, and then, sliding down her -- at which point his mouth took in a very soapy nipple, licking it until she started mewing again -- he worked the backs of her legs, his strong hands gripping each as he massaged her calves and upper thighs. His erection had returned and she found herself gripping him and soaping him, working him back to a state of readiness. But, he wasn't going to succumb this time, and he grasped her wrist, holding it away from him.

"Uh huh." He murmured, "why don't we enjoy each other slowly?" His question caught her by surprise. Ben had always been in a damned hurry, pushing her to try and orgasm quickly, trying for himself to come, and, as she relaxed under Alex's ministrations, was annoyed in retrospect for Ben just simply rushing the whole thing.

Of course, there had been those times when a sudden urge had taken either, or both of them, and then the rushing of the copulation was fun. Usually taken in the wrong place where exposure could lead at best to embarrassment, at worst.....well, extreme embarrassment! She found that the furtive couplings had lent an edge to her sexual drive, but here it was different. Alex was caressing her so slowly and lightly that she could almost not feel his hands, and yet there were the familiar stirrings of fire in her loins as she clung to him, her eyes closed, relishing the spray of the water, his body warmth and the strength of his arms holding her, lending a form of security to her that was, well, reassuring.

Moments passed as she day-dreamed, and he held his head back to try to see her expression in answer. She opened her eyes, smoky in the shadows of the tub enclosure and the candlelight "Mmmm, love to" she said dreamily "But, er, not TOO slowly, okay?" She couldn't see his eyes at all, hidden in the depths of the shadows, but she knew he smiled with them. A pervasive air of relaxation came through for both of them and the outside world had faded away. They were lost in their thoughts and she realized that she had become -- much to her surprise -- very comfortable with this man, who was, obviously, a total stranger. But, she didn't give a damn now. He was here, and, well, his tongue had proved that he knew just how to pleasure her, and she began to itch for more. She shut out thoughts of his other woman; where he may have learned his secrets; how many other lovers he may have had. All she wanted was now, to have him to herself!

"Miss Piggy" she thought, and grinned sheepishly to herself.

She was so fuzzy as he attended to her that she had closed her eyes again, as he moved around her in the tub, and turned her to him. She felt him leaning behind her, was waiting for the softness of his soapy hands against her back when the ice-cold needles of the spray hit her like lightning! She screamed loudly. But, he held her tightly as she struggled against him.

It lasted maybe five seconds, before he quickly reversed the water flow to the heated spray, but still continued to hold her, almost bound to him with his strong arms around her. Her wide open eyes looked up at him, to find him grinning like an idiot!

"That got you going, didn't it?" he said quite calmly.

She leaned back and beat him with her two fists against his chest "You bastard" she said, but there was no venom in it. "I'll get you for that!" And before he could move, she turned, bending down to duck the spray, did exactly what he'd done. The icy blast hit him fully in the chest as she cranked up the flow to High, and he grunted with the full shock as the water streamed down his front. All this happened in seconds, their playfulness getting them hyper again. As she bent, she turned looking back at him, letting the spray go for a few seconds, before she switched the whole thing off. As he blinked his eyes, wiping away spray, he became aware of the white globes of her buttocks, and he couldn't resist any more.

His erection had hardened with the cold water, and he wanted her again. Now! Badly! It was if she knew, and made no attempt to rise up, and as she pushed herself back towards him, he felt the heat of her sex against his cock, and it took but seconds to hold her down, as he fumbled for her opening. Her right hand came through her legs, grabbing him while her left held her off the wall. A moment later he was guided into her, and she arched her back as he slid in fully, burying himself in her heated cavity. This time, there would be no foreplay!

They paused for a brief moment, and then she placed both her hands against the wall, either side of the shower hose. He held around the waist and then started to ream into her, slowly at first, but with a measured stroke that took him to the hilt of his cock. She arched her back again, allowing him the fullest penetration while she reveled in the luxurious feeling of her sexuality coming through in waves. She cried out slightly, the sound echoing in the silence of the bathroom. All other sounds had ceased, except for the slapping as he pounded against her buttocks. That glorious slapping that took over their world, he losing himself deep in her as his feelings rose; she, feeling the growing heat in her legs, her groin, and that deep recess that was her very inner being.

He worked her for a few more minutes and knew, by her movements and her moaning in her throat that she was nearing her climax. He had great trouble maintaining a steady thrusting, his own needs now clouding his control. God! He wanted to lose himself in her and he feared that he'd lose control before she crested, but his movements had her rising up on her tip-toes as she came. A strangled scream turned into a guttural growling. Her hands were flat against the tiles forcing her onto his spike as she allowed the waves of orgasm to flow over her, and burn her senses.

His own groaning ecstasy had him gushing into her seconds later as he allowed himself to let go, his sex throbbing through into his very soul as he clung to her. Breathless, she still leaned against the wall, but, she needed to straighten up and he felt her need, pulling her back towards him, still embedded in her depths. In the aftermath of their loving as she stood, he eased away, sliding out of her, to hold her back against him while they recovered. Was it the residual water, or were they both sweating again?

Suddenly, she shivered slightly, and turned towards him. He started to speak but she placed a finger against his lips. "That was lovely" she murmured "I may need to shower all over again! But -- let's lay down; suddenly, I'm a bit cold and I'd like to lie in your arms." She slid back the shower door and reached for her terry-cloth robe hanging behind the bathroom door. "Wait there" she said, "I'll be right back." And, pulling the robe around herself, she stepped out of the tub and disappeared. He grabbed a towel from the rack and started drying himself off, feeling now satiated. God, what a helluva night!

She returned to the bathroom with an equally furry robe and he was delighted to wrap himself into its folds. "This is my father's, so I'll have to have it washed before he gets home!"

Alex was suddenly wary. "Your father lives her full time?" he asked.

"Oh yes, but he's always away, and won't be back until the weekend." She smiled, suddenly realizing his thought pattern. "No. It's okay. There's nobody here but me, and the maid won't be here until the morning sometime -- although, with the snow, I don't know if we'll even see her!" She paused, and then took his hand. "Like some more coffee?" smiling up at him. She paused again. "That was really nice just now. Let's have a drink, and then..." again, the hesitancy -- "Take me to bed and just hold me." She sounded almost waif-like, he thought. "I'd love to cuddle for a while before we sleep." More hesitancy. "You WILL stay, won't you?"

He pulled her to him. They stood, huddled in their robes as he said "I've love some coffee, and yes, I will stay with you. I would like it if you'd sleep in my arms." And, so it was. Within twenty minutes they were snuggled into her bed, the giant duvet wrapped around their nakedness as she stretched over him, somewhat like a cat, as he lay on his back, an arm around her shoulders. Her leg draped over his, he could feel the softness of her pubic hair almost tickling his thigh and he felt very content.

Not since the early days of his marriage had he settled into the ease of a woman sleeping on him. Jenny never wanted to hold each other. She was -- correction -- had been, great at sex with him, but those fires had quickly died and he had almost been content to while away their nights, reading, while she fell deeply asleep, twitching like a dog he'd once had, whose legs flailed around as he dreamed of chasing other dogs down the street.

He'd once told Jenny that, and she'd been most upset with him. Now, here, this girl, this woman, had drifted off so quickly, he was almost surprised that she should be so comfortable, so secure in his arms, she had -- in effect -- surrendered herself to him. He gripped her shoulder instinctively with these warm thoughts, and she gave out that little mewing sound again, which ended up as a tiny snore, which almost had him laughing, but he controlled the shaking so that she would not disturb. In minutes, he too, had fallen deeply asleep.

She awoke to light seeping in through the thick drapes. Peering at the clock she read off the time as 7:36. "Ummm" she murmured to herself. She felt good. And then she really woke, with a start, turning to look at Alex; hair tousled over his eyes, as he breathed deeply into the pillow. "Wow" she breathed to herself as her memory came flooding back to her. Then she realized that she needed to pee and slipped from under the covers, heading towards the bathroom.

He knew nothing until the smell of fresh coffee finally got to him. He stirred, and, opening an eye, found her watching him as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Hi.".

He mumbled something, his mouth feeling just a little thick. "Hi yourself." He raised himself up and sat against the headboard. The coffee smelled delicious to him, but she handed him a glass of orange juice to help clear his head. She looked delicious to him. Her hair was slightly tangled, although she'd obviously washed off all the make-up from last night, and looked clean, fresh and very inviting, the bathrobe hanging open slightly, so that he could see the curve of her breast almost inviting him to touch. Which he could not resist. He stroked the hidden softness of her and she smiled at him.

"You just don't stop, do you?" But, she didn't take his hand away and in fact straightened up enough where he could caress her nipple which grew instantly under his fingers.

"Ummm, that's nice" she continued, eyes glazing slightly as memories of her wonderful orgasms reappeared on her sexual memory bank. He placed the, by now, empty, glass on the side table and, leaning forward, pulled her robe aside so he could envelope that growing sign of her readiness for him. His lips, cool from the juice, chilled her nipple as he took her, and she sighed briefly. Her movements only created a need in him now, and he was growing hard again. In those night hours he had woken a couple of times to roll against her back, his arm extending around her and cupping her breast with his hand, as she slept. Involuntarily she had moved against him, and he had almost woken her up to make love again, but had, instead, let her sleep through. Only now, she was awake!