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Just One Glance

By: Rex Siter



Brad Winters had enrolled for a three day writing course on an egotistical whim. His first attempt at fiction, although pleasing to have published, had not sold enough copies to encourage him to give up his job in car sales, but the blurb for this course had specified, 'for published writers who have had only moderate success.' The fact that it was being held in a 4-star hotel, with excellent conference facilities, barely five miles from his home had made it an even more attractive proposition.

His hotel room on the first floor was neat enough with views across lavish gardens that seemed to burst with summer colour. That first morning the forty or so 'would-be' writers sat in a large hall to be given an outline of the intended programme. Brad was struck by the vast age range of the group. Some looked to be no more than older teenagers whereas there was a good smattering of over sixties.

For the afternoon session they were randomly divided into two groups, and Brad's group were instructed to meet in conference room B. Brad arrived there to find chairs set out in a rough semicircle with a small lectern at the centre point. He took up a left wing position as the other chairs quickly filled, and, before sitting, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and hung it on the back of his chair 

Sara Furlong needed her daughter, Jennifer, to persuade her to attend the writer's course she'd spotted in a magazine.

"You're one book hasn't exactly set the world alight, Mum." Jennifer had said, with her usual questionable tact. "This course may just set you in a more lucrative direction. And the location isn't far away."

"It'll probably be all pointless talk," Sara had replied, although she did wish to expand her experience. Working in the beauty department of a major store was interesting enough, but having written one historical novel, with one decent review, the idea of living off her writing had much appeal.

Jennifer gave her mother one of her pleading looks, "Maybe you could enquire if I could come with you. I wouldn't mind being a writer after university." Her grin was teasing, "I could probably make a fortune writing a disguised version of your confused love life."

Smiling, Sara gave her daughter a gentle nudge, "It wasn't that confused." Sometimes she regretted having been so frank with her eighteen year old daughter about the men in her life. 

So they found themselves sharing a comfortable twin bedded room on the first floor of the up grade hotel housing the course. For the afternoon session they found themselves in a smaller group of about twenty. Given the promised heat of the July afternoon, Sara had worn a thin, brown, sleeveless summer dress, and she and Jennifer placed themselves on the right hand edge of the semi circle of chairs. 

Comfortably relaxed, Brad allowed his eyes to scan around the seated group, and, jokingly, he graded them—'older, older, young, my age, my age, older, young.' There appeared to be an equal mix of men and women, as his eyes reached the far side of the semi circle, and he was proceeding,-'old, young, my age, ol—'

That was the moment the whirlwind struck him. Brad's eyes turned back to the woman in the brown summer dress he'd labelled 'my age'. Even as he did so, he saw her avert her eyes. What the hell had struck him about her? 

A tall grey haired gentleman moved to stand behind the lectern, placed some notes in front of him, introduced himself, and welcomed those present. Sara heard none of it. Her attention had inexplicably become focussed on the man directly across the floor from her. 

When she'd first noticed him, he had been slipping out of his jacket, before sitting down. What troubled Sara at that early sighting was the spasm and pulsing that started deep down in her lower body. She didn't know the man. He wasn't exactly handsome, 'rugged' might have been a better description. Then his eyes were on her, and she quickly looked away. But, why notice him, and why this reaction inside her?

Brad was not hearing the speaker either. He was pondering the effect this unknown woman was having on him. Although he might have classed her as attractive, she was no raving beauty. A round face framed by neat tawny hair, curling outwards just above her shoulders. A generous swelling in the brown dress suggested a reasonable figure. Slender calves, leading up to smooth knees which she appeared now to be attempting to push the hem of her dress to cover. 

Sara gave a quick glance and saw that he was looking down at her legs. Her movement to push down the hem of her skirt, as she hastily looked away, was almost involuntary. But as she did this, she could not resist another glance and this time their eyes held, and for an uncountable number of seconds they were locked into a thousand unanswerable questions. 

Brad was amazed to find his breathing quicken, and it was he who had to break the eye-lock, by glancing at the young lady who sat to the left of the brown dressed lady.

By general appearance, face shape, hair colour this had to be some relative, younger sister maybe. Prettier perhaps than her elder sister but there couldn't be much in it.

Sara had been relieved when he looked away, for, during that long stare something had happened that amazed and almost terrified her. Already feeling the pulsing down there she had become aware that there was a moistening between her thighs. This was ridiculous. What kind of awesome power did this man have in his gaze?

The speaker's voice was a mere background drone as Brad's eyes were drawn back to this magnetic lady in the brown dress. Her eyes had remained on him but now as she looked away, he was able to intensify his gaze. In trying to define why she was having this effect on him he had another shock. His penis was pushing against his boxer shorts.

An erection? He'd only viewed this woman briefly from a distance of some ten metres. God, this could not be happening. Two failed marriages, a couple of long term affairs, and several one nighters over his 39 years, had prepared him for any effect an attractive woman could have on him. He would admit to fancying a sexy woman like mad. He had fallen in love with each of his wives within hours of meeting them.

But this was something beyond his comprehension. Sitting there, gazing across at her, only one thing dominated his mind, and caused his erection to throb frantically. He desperately needed that erection to be thrusting, vigorous and deep, up inside this unknown woman. No woman had ever produced that kind of immediate desire in him. Hell, she was gazing at him again, and the very air was electric. Was she some kind of witch?

Was there a lecture going on? Sara had little awareness of any sounds other than what was the hammer beat of her own heart. With each glance, with each connection of the eyes, something was becoming desperately, frighteningly, clear. 

After one husband, three long term affairs, and several brief encounters, the three main orifices of her body had much experience of the eagerness of male erections. Sometimes it had been good, sometimes not so. But always, she had taken time to assess whether a man was going to be allowed access to her body. Now, here she was with an absolutely instant craving to have this unknown man's hardness shafting into her, but only into that orifice that defined her as a woman. 

One or two volunteers were being invited up to talk about their early writing experience. Brad could take in none of it. His mind was in a whirl. The response of his body staggered him. What significance was there in her eyes looking into his? Was he so desirable to this woman? That thought almost made him laugh. Yet, how could he be sitting here in some physical torment in his need to penetrate her? Determinedly he tried to concentrate on the current speaker. It was impossible.

"Are you going to volunteer, Mum?"

Her daughter's voice brought Sara back to some level of reality, but she knew her voice was hesitant as she replied," Of course not."

"Are you all right, Mum?"

Sara could sense her daughter's eyes upon her as she turned to face her and said, "Why shouldn't I be?"

Jennifer's eyes were questioning, "You look uneasy," she whispered."I thought you were trembling a moment ago."

"Ssh, dear, I'm all right."

But Sara knew she wasn't all right. What might Jennifer have said if she'd told her she was mad with desire? It was the inability to account for it that was so agitating. All the impulses and pulsations of recent minutes were so out of character. This was like no situation she could recall. Try as she might to concentrate on what was going on around her she could not lose this wild urging of her body.

But how could it be resolved? She would keep her eyes away from the man. That was one answer. 

Brad's mind stewed over the question of what might happen. He had to keep his eyes away from that woman in brown. But it wouldn't be easy.

At last the lecture wound down. Brad glanced at his watch, saw that it was four fifteen, as the speaker announced that tea would be served in the canteen. Grabbing his jacket, Brad stood up and held it in front of him to hide his still rampant erection. He knew he could not venture anywhere in his current state, and decided to get up to his room to cool off. Deliberately he kept his eyes averted from across the room.

"I could do with a cup of tea," Jennifer said.

Not daring to look across the room, Sara nodded, before realising that her panties were so soaked that she feared there might be tell-tale odour. She had to change.

"You go and order the teas, dear," she told her daughter. "I've got a slight headache, I'll just pop up to the room for a tablet."

Jennifer's face showed her concern, as she said, "I knew there was something wrong. I'll come with you."

"It's nothing. Don't be silly. I'll be with you in a couple of minutes."

Out in the hotel foyer, Brad saw the number of people waiting for the lift. The ache in his loins made him decide to take the stairs. Maybe the exercise would work it off. His pace on the stairs was deliberately slow, and he stopped to wriggle a couple of times to ease the pressure in his boxers.

Sara watched Jennifer head towards the canteen, and then, turning into the foyer, she saw the lift doors open, and two people emerged. Relieved, she hurried before the doors closed, glad to have the lift to herself. Quickly she pressed for the first floor.

By the time he'd reached the first floor landing, Brad was relieved to find that the pressure in his pants had subsided just a little. He slung his jacket over his shoulder as he moved past the lift doors and to his room door. Quickly he placed the key-card over the wall disc, and as he pushed the door open, he heard the lift doors part. About to enter, he was distracted by what was a choking, shocked, "Oh." He turned, and the whirlwind started all over again.

The woman in the brown dress stood there, open mouthed, staring at him.

Sara was so anxious to get to her room without encountering anyone that, being alone in the lift, she had quickly removed her soaked panties, and crammed them into her small handbag. No risk of any odour now.

The lift doors parted and she stepped out. Immediately the pulsating started in her lower body, and some sound escaped her lips. There, by an open room door, stood the man who had got her into this state. His jacket hung over his shoulder. Sara guessed that the astonished look on his face matched what must have been on hers. She took on involuntary step, and mumbled, "I—You—What—" 

Brad was transfixed by the nearness of her. Now he could see the delicate make up on her face, and he confirmed the shapeliness of her body. More than that though was the heaving pressure of his returning erection. He had to say something. "What-? We seem—I can't—" Nothing sensible would fit together, but slowly she was moving, almost staggering, towards him. God, he so wanted her. Would she cry 'rape'? With one long stride he had closed the gap between them.

Pure lust, Sara had never known, but it was upon her now. Her insides demanded the log hard invasion of her most secret part. She almost fainted as he came in close, and she felt his arms enfold her, while her own clung desperately at him. As their mouths came together, wide and wet, and tongues lunged and searched, something hard , oh yes, pressed against her thigh. She felt herself being turned to totter backwards towards the open door.

For Brad there had to be only be one outcome. At least her reaction had equalled his as he edged her back against the door frame, and round it into his room. His hungry erection pressed into her thigh. The passion in her kiss told him that the past hour or so had not been fantasy.

Pressed against the wall, Sara heard the door slam shut behind them, and she twisted her body to direct that hardness, but it was no use inside those pants. Frantically, her hand reached down, as she broke the kiss to gasp, "In me. Up me. I'm not—"

As soon as her hand moved onto his shielded prick, Brad reduced the pressure on her hips to allow her to complete her search. Her words could have been his words, and he responded, "Yes, yes, I've got to—" Amazingly in that short space of time, her hands had freed and were grasping his solid erection, and Brad thrilled at the warm hand on him.

Sara heard herself moaning as delightedly she discovered how easily his penis came free. Not so ridiculous now, this urge. Clumsily she tried to guide him up under her dress.

Brad sensed the urgency in her for it mirrored his own. Eagerly he dragged up the hem of her dress, felt for her panties but found his fingers in the morass of moisture that awaited his invasion. As she pulled him to her, he bent his knees, and waited for her to place him.

Since that placement was the only thing on Sara's mind, she was delighted as briefly his fingers dwelt along her soaking groove. She felt his knees bend, and panting fiercely in anticipation, she rammed his penis head at her vaginal opening.

The moment her hand released him, Brad gave a massive heave upwards and thrilled at the sheer delight of that long first journey into the moistness of her vaginal passage, where muscles pulled in their urgency, and he heard her cry out a wild, "Oh, yes. Fuck me." Oh, yes, indeed, Brad agreed, here was the release from the craving that had stewed inside him since his first sight of this unknown woman.

That first fierce push momentarily lifted Sara off her feet, but it was glorious to have him travelling hard and fast up inside her, like some express train. All she had been longing for. Vaguely she recalled the language she had just used. Never before in an intimate situation like this, had she used that word. But in spite of that she could not stop herself from squealing out her pleasure, and then again as she felt him draw back slightly. "Harder. Lift me. Do me." She wanted it all, but—

Brad could not recall ever having driven so fiercely into any woman. At no height of passion had he been so viciously demanding. But if the first thrust had been ecstatic, including her surprising use of the 'f' word, the second, under her continued frenzied pleading, he drove madly into the very depths of her. Good to hear her gasp of pleasure. He drew back for a third push but there—oh, no,-it couldn't be.

Yes, that second thrust had enthralled her, had drawn some vocalisation of her delight. It was all she had desired since early afternoon. Now she wanted it to --Suddenly, it hit her. She knew too well what a positive orgasm felt like. This one struck like some all engulfing fire, setting her nerve ends tingling, her heart pounding, the need to scream her joy. So quickly? Never before had-

He was about to cum. My God, after only two strokes? He wasn't the world's greatest lover, but he certainly wasn't a minute man. Was this all going to end in disappointment? Yet even as his thrust increased under the charge of his orgasm he realised that something was happening to this strange woman.

Her orgasm made Sara feel she was being turned inside out. Even as she succumbed, she was doubly enthralled as she recognised the man's obvious climax. His power and the realisation that his seed was flowing inside her were ecstatic sensations.

For a solid minute they were enveloped in their wild mutual climax, each searching for answers through the waves of pleasure that overcame them, as they heaved against each other before Sara slowly slid down with him, to lie, spent, on the floor.

Sara lay against the man's chest. They were quiet for a moment, each lost in their own confused thoughts. Then Sara mumbled, "We haven't even exchanged names." They immediately put that right. 

Sara's skirt lay wide spread , revealing elegant thighs, and her bush, the colour of a lioness. The way she had responded to him made that colouring seemed just right in Brad's eyes..

"What the hell happened to us?" he asked at last.

Sara shook her head, "I'm still totally lost, and I'm full of stupid clichés."

"What do you mean?" Brad asked, looking down to where her fingers rested very close to his limp penis, and then across to the warming sight of her parted thighs.

"I don't know," she replied. "Things like, 'Wanting you from across a crowded room,' or 'This never happened to me before,' or even 'I didn't know it could be like this.' All true, all so crazy." She gave a little giggle at the thoughts, "You probably think I'm a nympho."

Now Brad shook his head, "Never that. But if you are, I must be the equivalent. I had an erection within seconds of seeing you."

"Really?" Sara asked, "That ever happen to you before?"

"Within seconds of seeing an attractive woman? Never."

Sara's hand moved so that her fingers stroked over his semi erect penis. She hadn't meant to do that. As she looked down she said, "Is that what's happening now?" 

"Can't be," Brad said, never having timed any recovery rate he had, but when he looked down his penis did look less limp than the last time he'd looked. "Oh, hell." And he looked up into her green eyes, "You aren't some kind of devil lady, are you?".

"Do you think I am," Sara asked, feeling so good, and looking at him she realised that the urges were rising inside her again. It couldn't be, could it? But, if anything the need was stronger.

"If you are, what does that make me? Since you were turned on as well. Aagh." Brad's gasp was brought on by the movement of her fingers along his almost erect penis. 

"It seems we can't look at each other without--Oh, kiss me, Brad." Her lower pulsing had suddenly become so strong, and her interior was so moist. But this time his erect penis was under her fingers, ready for her. 

Brad realised something of the truth in what she had said. It seemed that they just had to look at each other. He had never recovered this quickly, and as he leaned into the kiss he knew that fresh excitement and delight was not far away. But this time, having expelled so recently, he could make this one last and see what kind of thrill he could really bestow on her.

Their tongues were quickly encircling each other. Under her fingers Sara could feel Brad's penis coming up to full erection. In her mind a moment ago she had found herself wondering whether she could offer to suck him just to bring him on. 

Now she knew that wouldn't be necessary, and that wasn't where she wanted his penis anyway. The madness was seizing her once more. And this time it should be a longer session. She broke the kiss, lay back, spread her legs and pulled him towards her. "In me, Brad, in me, quick and hard." Hell, how wanton had she become? 

Brad was delighted by her demands, because as he allowed her to draw his erection into her delectable juices, he knew that, once again, desire was the name of the game. There was one desire only; no stroking of what was a generous firm breast; no tickling or licking of the clitoris, no smoothing over inner thigh, none of that. All he was longing for was that luscious, long glide of his eager erection up into that warm, wet, secret place of her womanhood. And this time he would see how much he could pleasure her.


Just One Glance



Sara eagerly eased the head of Brad's erect penis into her vaginal opening. For just a moment she held onto it, squirming deliciously at the promise of that swollen head, ploughing into her once more. As she released it, she hissed, "Do it, Brad."

Brad did it. Did it with such force that, in the silk of her dress, she slid a few inches across the floor, and he heard her astonished , "Ooh."

Brad realised that his first thrust had taken him away from his intended long smooth glide. So the second push took advantage of all the responses on offer, her pulsing vaginal muscles, the warm lubricity of her internal passage, the trembling of her thighs under his, the joy of his penis head striking her cervix, everything was alight and alive. It was all going to his head, and --oh,no—worse—

It was just as she wanted that first stroke, strong, demanding, actually pushing her over the floor. When the second one came, it was so different for her, as her whole being, muscle, nerves, tendons responded. All too glorious. Too much, too much--oh, surely not--not this time. But wasn't Brad's pace increasing with that kind of desperation, which signalled—Her mind stopped following that line as for the second time her whole body felt like it was floating above the floor, all manner of fluids and excitements were pouring through her..She didn't have time, or the voice to warn him that she was--

Oh, thank God, she was cumming too, and Brad rode his bursting penis deep, deep into her as it expelled what seemed to be an impossible amount, and he heard their joint shuddering grunts and squeals in the air around them as they hit that incredible mutual high together for a second time.

Exhausted, they lay together, Sara's head on Brad's chest. Slowly Brad began to contemplate what had just happened, but which shouldn't have.

Sara's voice was breathless as she murmured, "I've never floated so quickly. Does it happen to you often?"

Brad had to admit, "Not since I was eighteen, and was just feeling my way. How can I be disappointed and yet, so exhilarated. I expected that second time to be a long slow session, but the climax was top drawer. Was it good for you?"

"That's another cliche!" Sara declared, laughing. "Yes, it was a delight for me. I know I've had good orgasms before, and quickly too, but always, it was after intense foreplay took me to the edge. But this, I just can't explain."

"Have you travelled far to -" He gave her a smile--"torment me?"

She returned his smile, "Not guilty," she said. "But not too far." And she told him where she and her daughter had come from.

Brad gasped, "That's less than three miles from where I live." Then quickly he announced his surprise at what else she had revealed. "Your daughter? I thought she was a younger sister."

"Flatterer. I had her when I was eighteen. Now, she is eighteen and I must go. I'll have some explaining to do." She looked at him, fearing the stirrings in her lower body. "What now?"

Brad sighed, "It seems we can't look at each other without switching on, but then assuaging any desire has been so brief. I can't come to terms with it."

"Should we keep out of each other's way?" Sara asked doubtfully.

"Sadly, yes. It's not going to be easy," Brad agreed, then, on a sudden impulse he asked, "Have you a mobile?" She had, and as they exchanged numbers, Brad told her of his strange quirk of only ever using his phone for brief contacts, of hating too much talk down the line. "I much prefer face to face."

Sara said, "By phone we can warn each other where we are—or—if we wanted to-" She didn't finish her sentence.

"I feel like we've got ourselves into some kind of time warp 

Sara nodded, "Something like that." God, her lower belly was beginning to tingle again. Quickly she said, "Must go."

After she'd gone, Brad, trying to think rationally, dwelt on that idea of keeping out of each other's way for the next couple of days. Then, course over, life could return to normal, and Brad could go home and write his best seller. 

Yet this Sara stayed on his mind. One look, and he'd immediately wanted her physically. The unbelievable thing was that the same thing had happened to her. Their coming together had been cataclysmic. Momentarily marvellous, but they couldn't go on with that sort of involvement, could they? It would be sensible for them to stay apart.

Brad went to the window and stared out at the garden, trying to clear his mind. Over in the far corner the land seemed to slope downwards and a path disappeared into a thicket of shrubs and trees. He had heard the hotel receptionist talking to someone about the history of the garden. 

What Brad could not know was that as Sara left his room, her daughter, Jennifer, was coming down the corridor.

"I've been looking all over for you," Jennifer cried. 

Sara winced, knowing that there was no ducking away from this, as Jennifer's eyes looked towards Brad's door. "Whose room is that?"

No lies, not to her daughter. "A man," Sara said quietly, moving slowly along the corridor towards their own door.

"A man? What man? On this course?" When Sara nodded, Jennifer went on, "What have you been talking--?" She stopped, stepped in front of her mother, and said accusingly, "Have you been having sex?" She stared firmly at her mother's flushed face. "You have, haven't you? How did you know him?"

It sounded so stupid she said, "I didn't."

"You had sex with a complete stranger?" Jennifer's eyes were wide with disbelief.

As she opened their door, Sara said, "I'll try to explain. But I'll tell you in advance I don't understand it myself. Neither of us do."

"I'll bet he understands," Jennifer growled. "Oh, yes. Easy meat—"

"That's not fair, Jennifer," Sara said angrily, already wound up by her uncertainty. "Sit down and let me try to explain."

They sat tensely on the single beds, facing each other, and Sara, began from that first glance across the room. From time to time as she reached certain points Jennifer threw in a comment, or a query. 

When Sara reached the first actual encounter, Jennifer asked, "You couldn't speak?"

Sara watched her daughter's eyes widen as she described how demanding she had been as they staggered into his room. She knew this was going to be the hard part.

"No foreplay? No caresses? And you asked him to what? Mum, you never use that coarse kind of language," Jennifer gasped.

Sara held up a silencing hand, and said, "Doesn't that tell you something about this situation. Everything was out of kilter." She went on, but Jennifer jumped in again, totally disbelieving. "You had an orgasm, straight away?"

"So did he."

"But you'd hardly touched—that's impossible."

Desperate to keep the situation light, Sara gave Jennifer a smile and said, "It's good to hear my virgin daughter being so knowledgeable."

Jennifer only frowned, "I have been touched--and nicely. Even if I've followed your advice."

Ever since Jennifer matured, Sara had endeavoured to ensure that her daughter did not make the mistakes she had made when it came to relationships with men. 

To her credit, Jennifer, following her mother's example, had been frank and open about her experiences to date. Sara had little doubt that her daughter was still a virgin. Although, she was well aware of her eagerness to lose 'the curse of virginity'. The security of having her on the pill was an advantage. 

Sara's conclusion to her story produced another note of astonishment from Jennifer. "You did it twice? But you were only missing for half an hour."

Sara nodded, "That's why we've exchanged phone numbers, to ensure we keep out of each other's way."

"Is he married?"

"I don't know."

"You didn't ask him?"

"I know his name, Brad, and that he doesn't live that far from us."

"Does that mean you're planning to see him again?"

"I don't know if we can, given the circumstances."

"Maybe it was just a one off situation," Jennifer suggested, "and maybe, if you see each other tomorrow, whatever passed between you will have gone."

Strangely, in his room, that was exactly the thought Brad was having. Sex with a total stranger, but was it real sex? Was it some kind of 'here today, gone tomorrow' aberration? 

Their mutual use of their phones ensured that they did not meet that evening, neither in the dining room, nor the lounge. When Sara informed him that she and her daughter were retiring to their room just after nine, Brad thanked her and added that he'd now go down to the lounge for a bedtime nightcap. Laughing, Sara asked him, "Recharging your batteries?"

The lounge was fairly busy, mostly, Brad observed, the younger members of their course. Ordering a whiskey and ginger at the bar, Brad found himself an empty table at the far end of the room, and sat where he could view the general activity and comings and goings. 

He had only taken one sip of his drink when she appeared in the far entrance. She stood there, looking around uncertainly, slimly sensuous in a pale blue summer dress, that clung to her curvaceous body. Then, seeming to spot her target, she strode confidently across the room. 

Brad had recognised her immediately, even though he had only seen her at the morning session, but given the hair, the shape of the face, the curve of the mouth, he would have recognised her anyway. It was Sara's daughter, and she was heading directly for him.

Oh, God, was this going to create a scene? But as she approached a delicate smile crossed her pretty face, and she asked, "You are Brad?"

"I am. And you have to be Jennifer."

"May I sit?" 

As he waved a hand to a chair, Brad asked, "Are you bringing me a message from your mother?"

"My God, no. She's thinks I've just gone for a walk. 

Uncertainly Brad asked, "Then I'm puzzled. How did you know who I was—?"

Jennifer laughed, "As you came down for dinner, mother and I were in the little gift shop area, and without looking too hard at you, she pointed you out."

Jennifer looked frankly into Brad's face, and he was very aware of her green eyes, her mother's eyes, as he remarked, "You seem to know a lot," 

"I know of the effect you seem to have on each other," Jennifer said calmly.

. Trying to control his breathing Brad asked, "Before we go any further may I get you a drink?"

"Oh, that's kind of you--just a white wine and lemonade would be gentle."

Waiting for the drink, Brad tried to assimilate what this conversation was going to be about. This young lady obviously knew much of what had happened between her mother and him. Was she here to warn him off? No real problem there, then.

As he placed her drink in front of her, Jennifer smiled up at him, muttered her thanks and said, "You're the one who made my mother use foul language."

Hell, she did know a lot, and that made Brad even more defensive. "Not on purpose, but she told you about that?"

Her eyes regarded him coolly, as she said, "She told me everything that happened. I've never heard her use the word 'fuck' before, not in any details of other contacts she's had."

Brad really wasn't sure how to respond to this kind of information. "You seem to be very close."

Jennifer nodded, "She's told me every detail of her love life." She laughed as she went on, "I even know that I was the product of her losing her virginity in a drunken, up against the wall, bang eighteen years ago. All I know of my father is his name, Harry, whom she never saw again. That, I'm sure has prompted her to be always frank and open with me. Which brings us to today-- By the way, my mother didn't even know if you were married."

"Divorced," Brad told her, and drew in a breath, "So, what about today?"

Jennifer glanced away and then back at him, "My mother has never lied to me. Never. So I have to believe what she said, and that the circumstances did take place in the way they did."

"They did."

"It could be that today's events were some strange quirk of fate, and tomorrow you'll both be rational again. Have you thought of that?" 

Brad nodded, "I have. But I still don't know why you are here. "

For the first time, Brad felt an uncertainty emanating from her, as she sipped at her drink. He felt like a very old man sitting here with this lovely young lady twenty years his junior. Nothing could prepare him for the request she was about to make.

"I've told you already, I've known of all my mother's affairs since I matured. She could be very detailed, sometimes making me rather jealous. Now her eyes came up to fix firmly on his, "Brad, mainly because of my mother's cautious advices I'm still a virgin. Oh, I've had a few close calls--"

God, she was frank enough, and Brad wasn't sure he should be hearing this. He watched as she licked her lips, and—were her hands trembling?

"I've been determined to lose my virginity before I turn nineteen. It's like a great shackle around me. Tonight, after so much second hand sharing of my mother's affairs, I suddenly saw that here was a chance to share her recent sexual experience, and to lose my damned virginity at the same time."

Brad wasn't too sure he had understood what she had just said. Surely she wasn't suggesting-? He had to sound dumb and ask, "What do you mean?"

Those green eyes again, as one of her hands ran over her left breast, "I would like you to take my virginity, Brad." Just a short pause, and then, "Please."

In that moment her look was so pitiful that Brad momentarily thought it would be cruel to refuse. But there were stronger emotions at play here, and he sat back determinedly, held up both hands before saying, "Whoa! Whoa! That's not how it works, Jennifer. I'm sure your mother has told you that."

"You don't fancy me?"

"My God, I wish I was eighteen or nineteen. Some young man is going to be honoured to have access to your rich young body." Wow, how had he suddenly morphed into an advising parent? " But you must be sure that, whoever becomes that lucky man, he recognises the gift that you are offering, and that you're not some trivial plaything." 

There was a slightly sulky look on her face as she said, "You and my mother could be right for each other. You give identical advice."

"What has passed between your mother and me has an air of abnormality about it, and probably will never be repeated." 

Brad watched the emotions flash across Jennifer's face; the sulk, momentary anger, regret, hurt, doubt, before, with a shuddering sigh, she shook her head in resignation. 

"Look, come and sit here," Brad said, patting the seat beside him.

Frowning, she moved to sit alongside him. Brad wafted a hand to take in the whole room. "There are sufficient young men to at least consider. See him by the window?" Jennifer looked to where a young was absorbed in a book.

"What about him?"

"As you were walking towards this table, his eyes followed you every inch of the way, and his head shook in disgust when you stopped here. That one at the bar appears to have nothing on his mind, except when you walked through."

Jennifer shrugged, "I don't have any trouble attracting men."

"I'm sure you don't," Brad said fervently."But stop regarding them as potential virginity busters. That you would surrender it to an old fogey like me is just crazy." He came slowly to his feet, moved out from behind the table. "I'm leaving you to finish your drink alone, but I don't think it will be for long." Brad reached out, placed two fingers under Jennifer's chin, and lifted her face so that it was close to his as he leaned forward. 

The perfume he had smelled from his mother earlier filled his nostrils now, as he said, "I've told you what you have is not a shackle, it is a gift. You only give that to someone you consider worthy of it, not casually, but lovingly. Your mother may have told you about how you were conceived, but has she ever told you how she felt on the morning after that incident? That is, before she knew you were growing inside her"

Jennifer's sweet breath was on his face as her head shook, and Brad said, "Then, ask her. She was a lucky lady to acquire you from her error. I'll say good night now, and hope we may have a chance to chat again." 

"Good night, "Jennifer whispered, and drew in a deep breath before adding, "Thank you."

Brad walked away, and was very aware of at least two pairs of male eyes observing his departure. Going up in the lift he chided him self, on believing he could become such an emotions counsellor. What a strange day it had been, and he'd bet that he'd never, in the rest of his life, have an offer like the one he'd just rejected.

The following morning was surprisingly easy to negotiate, since the groups had been readjusted, and he and Sara were kept separate. A swift phone call advised Sara when he was taking lunch, and then after lunch they were in their separate groups again. What a boring afternoon that turned out to be. The course, apart the amazing side issues, was turning out to be a bit of a disappointment. His thoughts dwelt on Sara, but could there be any alternative other than staying apart. 

It was almost five o'clock when they were dismissed. The sun still shone brightly in the late afternoon and he made a quick decision to go and inspect the lower garden. Briefly he contemplated a phone call to Sara, but that was not what the phone was for--it was to keep them apart. So why had he thought that way? In open necked shirt and pants he took a slow stroll down the path that led to the deeper enclosed area.

The hotel had originally been a stately home of some rich mine owner, and he had designed the whole garden, giving particular attention to the exotic deep gloominess of what over the years had become known as 'the devil's pit.' It sounded quite intriguing.

Descending the first steps into that particular area, Brad could see no lower level, because of the density of undergrowth and tall trees. There was so much vegetation that he was not familiar with, and now he found the steps gave way to a path that descended steeply as it wound around the whole bowl shape. It must have cost a fortune, he was thinking, when at last he found himself at the top of a short flight of stairs that led down to a final, flat paved area.

He wandered around the edge of the paving, seeing plants that would never see the sun, but which looked so rich and verdant for that. A tall, thick rounded shrub looking like a rumpled pillow, took his attention, and that was the moment he heard her voice calling his name.

Brad turned, and there was Sara, in white blouse and wide, button up blue skirt. Any doubts he might have had that yesterday had been a one-off were instantly dispelled, as his penis immediately reacted to the sight of her. 

By pure chance, Sara had spotted him from her bedroom window, as he was moving down the garden path. At that moment, she had a choice, ignore him, or, as she convinced herself, find out whether the powerful sensuality of seeing each other remained. Allowing for the possibility of the latter, she had quickly dressed, but had omitted certain items, just in case. 

Amazed by the long trek downwards, she'd had her question answered, the moment she arrived at the top of the final flight of steps, and saw him standing there. Her voice was all atremble as she called his name, all the electricity sparking her lower body once more. Striding down the stairs towards him, she raised her skirts exaggeratedly, only partly to speed her descent..

Brad stood transfixed. At the sight of her and those smooth thighs, eager anticipation had him unzipping his pants. There was no way to fight against the delicious attraction of her. His solidly firm penis was ready, as Sara rushed towards him.

"God, oh, yes," she gasped, "we're still hooked, Brad. Give it to me."And she crashed against him, with such force, her mouth fastening on his, tongue searching, that Brad staggered back to be almost sitting in the lower reaches of the round bush, allowing her to straddle him and press herself down on the skewer that was his erection.




Just One Glance



Being on top was an unexpected bonus for Sara, but it was pure ecstasy for her to be in charge as, astride him, she was able to propel her hips up and down sending his iron hard penis sliding deep and deeper inside her.

For Brad the force of her charge had been equally unexpected but the result was an absolute gift, having her use his erection as she wished. He attempted to heave upwards into her, but really it was unnecessary. She was doing all the work, but then came the feared pull of his scrotum wanting to evacuate. 

Sara cursed herself for her eagerness, everything was rising to a wild fire, and she recognised so well that the gorgeous explosion was only seconds away. Wildly she pounded down on Brad's rod, sensing in his breathing that he too was close. She didn't really want it to happen yet, but she also longed for it, and then it was upon her as every nerve end in her body fired, and she could only yell, "It's happening. It's--Oh my God--Brad, Brad--"

Brad needed no advising as, with one almighty thrust which almost lifted Sara into the air above him, he spurted and spurted his seed as deeply into her as it had ever gone.

Could 'the devil's pit' ever have experienced the mingled cries of pure ecstasy or ever have witnessed such madly possessed fever from two human bodies, as they swayed and heaved to their ultimate release?

Brad lay back in the bush, surprised that there were no twigs digging into him. Sara, being on top, leaned close to him, and Brad, noticed that her blouse had unbuttoned. Was her breast unfettered? For the first time he had a strong urge to kiss there. He resisted, and asked her if she was all right.

"No, it was awful," she said, and the laugh in her voice told him everything he needed to know.

"What made you come down here, anyway?" he asked.

She told him, and Brad could not keep his mind from all the positive assumptions he might make from that simple admission.

"Did you know they call this place the devil's pit?"

"What?" And she raised her head to look around with mock anxiety. "Do you think he's been watching us?"

"If he has, I'll bet he's bloody jealous." Brad said, delighting in Sara's easy laughter, and the reflexive hug she gave him. Somehow this meeting was different.

They had hardly moved since their climax so that Brad's limp penis, having slid most of the way out of Sara, was bunched into her groin, and Brad was taken aback when she bowed her head to kiss his lips with a fondness that was removed from their usual passion.

"What brought that on?" he asked looking up into her green eyes. Did he detect something new there? Why should he expect anything?

"Jennifer told me."

Brad wasn't sure what to expect, "Told you what?"

"Everything, as she always does. She offered you her virginity, didn't she?"

"Only because she wanted to be your equal."

"But you gave her some wonderful advice. Wow, telling her to ask me about how I felt the morning after losing mine. Why did I never think of that when I was giving her so many warnings?"

"Too painful, maybe."

"True. And guess what?" Sara said, "Your prediction happened. Some young man came to her table, they talked, and right at this minute they're out strolling somewhere."

"Not down here, I hope."

There was a brief pause, and Brad was just thinking how they should fill that time with the positive talking they hadn't had, when it was as though Sara had read his mind, as she said, "We don't get much talking time, do we?" She gave a little giggle as she added, "Sex is our constant companion. How long is it since that last climax?"

Brad had been vaguely aware of Sara's thighs twitching, and small pulses where his penis rested, but he asked anyway, "Why?"

"Because something is growing between my thighs, something hot and threatening," she said, as her hand slid down between them to explore.

Within a minute, as she moved to place his newly aroused erection into her entry, Brad was twisting their bodies so that she was beneath him, her back into the shrub, and once again he was heaving up into her slippery channel with a stroke as fast and hard as ever. 

Gladly, Sara took it all. This time Brad's erection seemed to fill her completely. Would that it would go on and on, but-

Seconds later, their combined, grunts, squeals and gasps wee rising up into the trees once more, and their thighs meshed madly together.

"Why is that happening? Another thrilling climax," Sara sighed at last. "Another disturbing climax."

Brad looked down into her eyes, and asked, "Why has any of it happened to us? It is so rapturous on one level, yet so cruel on another." Tentatively, without taking his eyes off her, he placed one gentle hand over her left breast, felt the shudder that past through her body, and took his hand away.

"No," she hissed, grabbing his hand and putting it back onto her breast. "If I shuddered it was because I liked it--but we both know I'll have to go before -it starts again." 

"So just where are we?" Brad asked, standing back to let her up., and pulling her up with him so that they were face to face. Perhaps for the first time he had sensed something more than just raw sex. "I suppose the easy answer, is to keep out of each other's way, and tomorrow go our separate ways. Would that suit you?"

"Oh, God, Brad, I wish I knew. My emotions are in a tangle. I want--I don't want-" Inside she felt the familiar flutters starting again, and told herself it would be impossible to continue under such strain. And yet, hadn't there been-? "I have to go."  

She hurried towards the steps, as Brad called after her, "You mentioned never talking—Could we arrange something?"

"Would that be wise?"

"Maybe not."

Increasing her pace towards the steps, as the now familiar tensions churned in her lower body, Sara knew that she could have made a more positive response. 

She had not lied about the tangle of her emotions. An inexplicable, strictly physical release for both of them, was acquiring a new dimension. His joke about the devil had produced that unexpected hug from her. Brad's hand on her breast had shaken her, but she had liked that, mainly because if felt so natural, and appeared to be a sign of true affection. Similarly, her intended kiss of simple gratitude had produced, in that moment, a shared warmth that had nothing to do with passion.

What on earth had made her question the wisdom of meeting to talk? There appeared to be so much that talk might help resolve. Sara Furlong—you are one hell of a confused lady. 

Brad's mind also patrolled, without knowing it, the same unexpected elements in their recent coupling that were troubling Sara. God, her breast had felt good under his hand. He was fairly certain there had been no bra. 

After Sara left, he sat for a long while in the green depths, and found his creative mind inventing a real devil from this deep hole. This devil had cast his teasing spell on the pair of them. Brad determined to find some way to break that wicked spell. All the best books broke evil spells. 

Suddenly he found himself considering whether he was already on course to beat the devil--he had become genuinely fond of Sara. That was a startling thought on its own. Yet a thrilling one, and flinging back his head, he yelled up into the dark of the greenery above and around him, "You get that, Mr Satan? You're going to lose."

As his voice echoed around the pit, Brad wished there was a genuine course of action that would clarify the situation.

He took a late dinner knowing that would avoid seeing Sara. But it didn't avoid his seeing Jennifer. She gave him a cheerful wave from a table where she was sitting with a young man, who, he was fairly positive, was the one who had appeared to be studying on the previous evening.

Jennifer introduced him as Sam, and as they shook hands Sam said, "Last night I thought you were her father."

"He was giving me fatherly advice," Jennifer said, touching Brad's hand briefly.

Brad nodded, as he said, "Good to see you again." Then he turned away. "Enjoy your evening." 

"I understand there are no plans for your evening. Would that be weariness?" Jennifer asked teasingly, and Brad knew that she had already had a report from her mother. 

He went back to his table wondering just how to handle the next twenty four hours. It had been good to see young romance blooming. Laughing to himself, Brad was thinking that if anything came out of this course it had nothing to do with writing. That thinking was to dominate his mind for the rest of the night.

Sara was fairly sure that she had discouraged Brad from making any attempts at breaking the situation they were in. Why hadn't she been more open? No doubt he was believing that going their separate ways was preferrable. She waited into the late evening, hoping. Nothing happened. Twice she picked up her phone, considering calling him, but, to say what? Come and get me?

Three times, during what turned into a long evening. Brad reached for the phone, but without a clear course of action he held back. He guessed that Sara would be disappointed at this lack of connection. On the other hand, she hadn't called him, had she? It appeared more and more likely that she believed that staying apart was the best option.

That thought depressed him, and at nine thirty he went down to the lounge to have a whiskey and ginger. He was in bed by ten thirty. But for very little sleep.

Troubled, and just a little sad, Sara retired at ten twenty to face a very tossing and turning night that had Jennifer questioning if she was all right. No, she wasn't all right. Did she really want to leave tomorrow without at least trying to find some solution. That thinking had her realising that direction was not her favourite.

By seven o'clock the next morning Brad had resolved three things. The first was, he longed for physical contact with Sara, no matter how brief and unnerving it might be. Second, he really wanted to know more about her, and the business of talking might, possibly, be a route towards some kind of normality. He had to face the truth that normality might drive them apart. He'd take that chance.

At eight he rang Sara.

Sara had been up and dressed since seven thirty. She was sitting at the breakfast table when her phone sounded. A long, long night of doubts and uncertainties was forgotten as she heard Brad's voice.

"Are you willing to skip the lecture this morning to talk," he asked.

"Definitely, I've hardly slept and their lectures have had that soporific quality anyway." 

"Would it bother you if it developed into more than just talk?."

Sara hesitated, only a moment, her pulse racing, before admitting, "I don't think so. Although I'd better warn you, lack of sleep makes me grumpy."

"I'll risk that. I'll ring you again at nine thirty."

"But--" He was gone. 

Brad had a clear idea of how he would like it to be, but already he was pleased that she was not insisting on talk only. His not so clever ploy to enable them to talk without any passion was for him to remain in the bathroom while Sara stayed in the bedroom. Sheer genius,which hardly fit his preference for talking face to face.

After her breakfast, Sara told Jennifer that she would be missing the morning session. To her surprise, her daughter made no protests, asked no questions, only bathed her in a knowing smirk. Given the double promise in Brad's request, Sara returned to her room and took a shower, and waited for Brad's call. 

Brad also completed breakfast, showered, and donned only the towelling bathrobe. 

At precisely nine thirty Sara's phone rang and she snatched it up. "Whenever you're ready," his voice always sounded deeper over the phone. "I'll leave the door open. Lift the latch and walk in."

Sara laughed, "Oh, the big bad wolf, is it?" Knowing this would give a clear indication of his intent, she asked, "Do you have a dress code in your den?"

"Simple summer dress would be fine--oh, and--"

He had paused, deliberately, Sara was sure, "And?" she prompted.

"Well, in case anything overcomes us, after we've had our talk, wear the same underwear as you had on yesterday afternoon." The phone went dead, with Sara frowning at his final demand. 

In just two seconds she understood. His intent was clear, and she nodded her head So obvious, Brad, so obvious. But she enjoyed an underlying frisson of delight. Then she tempered that by remembering that they still had to resolve the overlying problem that had brought them together.

Brad hoped that, being unable to see each other, there would be time for some sensible talk. From there, well, plan B, was less certain, but they could end up in each other's arms. He would give her that option. He just wondered if there might be any difference in their responses to each other. But it could be just a goodbye loving.

The door clicked and he pushed the bathroom door half closed, as Sara's voice called, "Anybody home?"

"Make yourself comfortable," Brad replied. "I intend to stay in here for a while. Out of sight, and all of that--while we talk. A genius system, don't you agree?"

Sara called her agreement. It was so obvious she had to wonder where her mind had been. So she added, "I would never have thought of it in a million years." And she was pleased to hear his approving chuckle. Brad's room was very similar to her own, except he had a queen size bed. She and Jennifer had shared a twin.

"Anywhere you want to start—talking?" Brad asked. 

Settling herself on the bottom edge of the bed, she repliedt, wondering how provocative it might sound. "Does that matter?"

There was momentary silence from the bathroom, and Sara feared she might have already thrown cold water on their situation. Then came a gentle throat clearing cough, and Brad's firm voice declared, "Madam, it matters a great deal to me."

Sara's heart gave an unexpected extra thud, and she found her hands clenching and unclenching on the duvet cover. Oh, if only there could be an answer to their situation.

"Sara," Brad's voice was quieter, "sitting out there with me in here, are there any --of those feelings?"

Sara knew exactly what he meant, and had to admit that she was relatively cool.

"Me too," Brad told her, shuffling on the wide edge of the corner bath."So we know we have some leeway. Can I begin by telling you a little about myself.?"

For the next three quarters of an hour they talked about their marriages and why they failed. About their work, and their dissatisfaction there, which led to talking about their writing.

"Maybe we could exchange books sometime," Brad said, knowing that that carried a strong suggestion of some kind of future.

"Maybe," Sara agreed, ensuring her tone gave nothing away, but well aware of the implication. 

A discovery that they were both film enthusiasts, an exchange of views on their favourite films, and then Sara heard Brad clear his throat, as though about to make a speech. All he did say, in muted tones,was, "Now, what about this situation we find ourselves in?"

Sara wondered whether she was supposed to make an immediate response. but Brad went on, "The most straight forward solution you know about. How do you feel about that in the cold light of a new day?"

"You mean I leave this room now, and we keep out of each other's way?" Sara said, allowing a smile to play across her face.

For a moment Brad was nervous about how prompt her response had been, but she went on, "If I agreed with that I wouldn't be here now."

Brad felt a measure of relief as he sought to lighten it further, "Yes, the trouble with that plan, since we apparently don't live that far apart, we could bump into each other in a bookshop or library.". He paused deliberately, "Can you imagine that, instant sex in the historical fiction section?"

The sound of her warm laugh eased him further. From here on in it was going to be largely experimental.

Sara's laugh had been more than just warm. It had carried a sense of real relief, and strengthened the feelings she was prepared to admit to, but, as far as she could see, they still needed that physical solution.

Brad was finding the corner of the bath rather hard on his backside. He stood up, stretched, and leaned against the sink as Sara waited a moment before saying, "Can I ask you a rather pertinent question?"

"Fire away." Brad was pleased she was prepared to discuss their situation.

Sara took a deep breath. This had been on her mind since their time in the garden. "Suppose we hadn't been hit by this- this thing, this aberration, whatever, would you have even noticed me?"

Brad half smiled to himself, he had to admit it was an angle he hadn't even considered, but an intriguing one. He had to be honest, without being mean, "I just don't know. How about you?"

"The same, Brad, I'm a believer in fate, and I cannot escape the fact that what has happened between us is somehow preordained."

Brad stood up straight. Sara was clearly on a positive line and that had to be encouraged. "I like your thinking." Now further questions seemed to pile in, and Brad knew that, in reality, he wanted to be out there in the bedroom with Sara. There were still things they needed to discover.

"While we've been talking here, Sara," he asked cautiously, "has it had any—er-physical—effect on you?"

Sara could not resist a little giggle, and she pondered what she should say, "Well, sitting alone in this room, and having only your voice, as I would on the phone--" She gave a deliberate pause, before going on, "—but, yes, I have felt a slight tingle. And you?"

Brad looked down to where the front of his robe could be remotely twitched. "Yes, I have to say there is some interest showing."

"So we're still in trouble," Sara remarked, "even without seeing each other."

"Could be a normal reaction--talking to an unseen, good looking woman. Especially one you have already been--" Brad checked himself.

"So—do we test it now" Sara knew she really wanted to.

"With one extra experimentation," Brad told her, and he had given the advisability of this much thought.

Sara guessed what it was going to be, but she asked anyway, "And that is?"

"How did you dress?" Brad asked, trying to envisage how she would look.

"As instructed. A summer dress."

"And what else?"

"A summer dress," Sara played along with his game.

"You know we've come together four times up to now, but never skin to skin."

"Should that make a difference?" Sara asked, slowly unbuttoning her dress in anticipation.

"There's only one way to find out," Brad said, shrugging out of his robe, glancing down and thinking how pathetic his slightly roused penis looked. "Would you mind taking off your dress?"

"It's off," Sara declared, feeling rather exposed now. What stance should she take? Not a sexy pose, but worse than that, not a pathetic, hands by side submissive pose. How about a spread out on the bed kind of pose? All of them seemed inappropriate. As the bathroom door began to open she opted to return to the sitting position she had been in.

Brad knew his body was in pretty good trim. He did regular work outs at the local gym. Only his quarter raised penis bothered him, but if that came up the moment he saw her it could only mean they were still at square one. Already he knew his breathing had quickened.

He quickly stepped into the bedroom. Totally naked, Sara was rising from the edge of the bed to stand in front of him, arms slightly raised, as though ready for his embrace. Without clothes she was absolutely stunning. Firm, small breasts with an exciting pink tip were accentuated by the curve of her shoulders. That belly, for a thirty six year old was incredibly flat, and he was fairly well familiar with the rounded thighs and the lioness bush. Brad was lost in admiration.




Just One Glance



Sara had known she would be unable to remain seated, and came to her feet as soon as Brad came into the room. What had been the first impact of his face? Ruggedness, well the same could be said for the rest of his body. His hairless broad chest, and muscled stomach told her he was an active man. Her eyes moved down to observe his penis rising to point at her even as she watched.

Sara could not resist pointing and, hopefully, realising how she was feeling, she asked, "Out of control?"

Brad glanced down, and back at her. Yes, his erection had been almost instant with his admiration of her body, but was he out of control as on their other meetings? There was no doubt, with any naked lady in front of him, there had to be a modicum of desire. But had they been able to avoid that mad desperation that they had known?

Sara tried to read the expression on Brad's face as he took a step towards her. She had initially half raised her arms in case it was to be instant embrace, and there were stirrings deep inside her that she was hoping to keep restrained. Dare they hope that a corner had been turned? She needed to know as she took a step forward and said, "Good, Brad. Touch me, just touch me."

Brad had been wondering about the best approach since it seemed there was a change in their past pattern. Now, tentatively, he reached out his right hand to stroke his fingers down the slope of her left breast.

Brad's touch had the same effect as putting a lighted flame to a fuse. Sara almost collapsed completely into his arms as their mouths came together in a, so familiarly, frenetic kiss, and their bodies meshed together. Brad managed to keep his hand open on her breast, while she groped wildly for his erect penis. They both staggered sideways to collapse onto the bed. 

That action momentarily broke their connection, causing Sara to wonder whether she could delay the hot impulses that racked her lower body so that she could, even briefly, enjoy the surprising sensation of Brad's lips and tongue on her nipple. Plus there was the sheer magic of being skin to skin. Restraint would be a massive step, but she knew the sensuality would be too much.

Brad, aching to plunge into Sara's so familiar territory, had managed, as they fell to the bed, to nuzzle his face against her breasts. Taking a nipple into his mouth, had been a massively bold move, and now, he'd allowed his hand to trail down over her belly towards her bush, knowing from the pulses in his scrotum that he needed to get there before— That was the moment that Sara's hand clutched tightly and tugged urgently on his erection.

"Oh, Brad—" Sara gasped, the touch of his fingers had been too much in her delicate state, and as she felt him respond to roll between her thighs, she was wondering whose need had been greatest.

Brad could have consoled her that there wasn't much in it. As soon as her fingers had closed on his prick there was only one direction he wanted to go. But, already, since there had been some advances in their passion, he was wondering how he might make more of his time inside Sara.

Breathing heavily, Sara had Brad's erection poised against her vaginal opening. Just before releasing him to plough up into her, to fill her, and lift her to such familiar heights, she too had wondered how this next sequence might be extended before orgasm took them. Releasing him was like sending some mighty rocket deep to her heart. The traversing of his rod inside her was exquisite.

Brad, having a male variation on what Sara was experiencing, just loved the lush, easy slide of his solid prick in the moist, welcoming heat of Sara's deep long cavity. Cautiously he drew back, and plunged again. For the first time, he became aware of Sara's breathing, fast and heavy, almost gasping. Was she so near? Brad thought he might risk a couple of further strokes. That would be something of a record.

Sara could not believe how weak she was feeling. She was weak in a very pleasant sense, weak enough to explode under the next thrust of Brad's steely rod. Her breath was gasping out of her. God, was he really going for a third stroke? And as that loving penis worked up to her cervix once more, Sara knew she was gone. All the portals of delight were opened as her senses went berserk.

"Oh, Brad—oh,yes-I'm --Oh, oh."

Sara's heaving and bucking, allied to her wild cries, surprised, yet delighted Brad. Joint orgasm might be the ideal, but in this session, he had surpassed everything that had gone on between them before. Sara had climaxed, was still in the throes of it. Yet he had more to give. The sheer delight of that thought started to bring him to a head. But he knew he could manage at least one more push.

Sara was very aware of being out of it, deep in her own orgasm, for longer than ever. Her amazement came when she realised that Brad was travelling harder inside her. He hadn't climaxed with her. She wasn't sure whether to be glad or sorry, but as Brad's stiffness rode up into her twice more and then, at last, hit that very frantic final discharging inside her, she was glad, very glad. Sara heard her own loud grunt as Brad's orgasm drove him into her with enough strength to almost give her a second lift.

Brad was overjoyed. He had managed to withhold as Sara went into her personal climax, but as he was able to continue, he could tell by the sounds coming from her that she had enjoyed his renewed strength. Were there real reasons for hope now? Brad lay back with the unbelievable comfort of Sara's naked body warm against him as they each recovered from their recent passion.

"Have we made ground?" he asked at last.

"Have we made love?" Sara said, still sounding a little breathless. "Shouldn't that be the question?"

Brad looked into her reddened face, "And the answer would be?"

"Almost." As she spoke Sara sat up and leaned over him, "Oh, Brad, there were so many positives. We didn't rush at each other."

Brad nodded, "Maybe because we had taken time to talk."

"Being naked maybe helped," she affirmed, her hand stroking across his chest. "But that first touch set me away."

"Now do we wait to see whether the urge hits us again?" Brad asked.

"It always has," Sara admitted, but she leapt from the bed, determined to make the situation as natural as possible. "But, do you mind if I use your shower?"

Just a little surprised Brad said, "Not at all. Need a hand?"

The sight of her standing there, her naked body glowing, a mock scolding look on her face, had Brad fearing that he could be enjoying this too much, as Sara said, "Better not—let's just pretend everything is normal."

Brad lying on the bed, and Sara enjoying the splash of the shower, each had that word 'normal' on their mind. Brad feared normal could mean that they just liked each other without any physical desire. Was that possible after all they had experienced together? Sara was hoping for a clear resolution, so they could really use that word, 'normal', for their relationship.

Keeping their heads turned away from each other, 'just in case', they exchanged places. When showered and dried, Brad returned to the bedroom, trying to contain himself and any urges that might invade him, he was surprised to find that Sara had found a thin bed sheet and lay completely covered up to the neck. Her eyes were bright as, without looking at him, she said, "Just come and lie outside the sheet, and hold my hand."

Doing as she suggested he asked, "A test?"

"Sort of. Trouble is, I'm not sure whether I want it to work or not."

Brad knew exactly what she meant. If they could just lie together, it could mean that all desire for each other was gone. If they only took a few moments before they were locked together once more, it could indicate that, well, maybe a slight progress had been made. 

Lying flat on his back, alongside her, separated by the thin sheet, her cool fingers clasped in his, he outlined those thoughts. Waiting for her answer, Brad stared up at the ceiling, listening for any tell-tale signs in her breathing. There were none. 

Reality seemed to want to impinge upon the way Sara's thoughts ran, and she told Brad, "I'm so hopeful of the progress we've made, but I fear we'll hit somewhere in the middle of all this."

"Okay," Brad said, "as long as that means we're still intimate."

Sara nodded, without looking at him, and said, "But I think a nice, slow development through kissing, touching, caressing should be our goal."

"Oh, yes," Brad said fervently. They lay on their backs with only their fingers touching. After a while Brad wondered how long they should continue this test. It was then that he noticed two things. First Sara's fingers had slackened on his. At the same time, her breathing, came to his attention.

He recognised the significance in her breathing while they were physically active. So what had drawn his attention to it at this time? It was rather deep guttural, regular in and out. He had heard that sound before in other situations. My God, it was the breathing of someone asleep.

Cautiously, Brad sat up and looked down into her sleeping face, eyes lightly closed, lips barely parted from which emitted that obvious sound. He was so tempted to lean down and kiss those lips. Of course, she'd said she hadn't slept well, that and their recent activity had obviously caught up with her.

Could anything be more natural? Satisfied, Brad lay back, held her hand, occasionally allowing his thumb to stroke over hers. He thought he might sleep himself, but knew he wouldn't. He was floating on the delightful notion that somewhere, somehow, they might have a controlled future.

Brad wasn't sure how long they lay like that, but he became aware that while his thumb was gently stroking Sara's, her fingers had begun to move over the back of his hand. Electrical fibres seemed to send tickling impulses up his arm.

He raised his head to look into her face. Wide green eyes were bright upon him, brighter as her lips bestowed a warm smile. Brad could do nothing but bend to place his mouth on those full lips.

The kiss was long, slow and deliberate. Sara closed her eyes under the sheer pleasure of it. She hadn't been sure what would happen when she woke up, but the gentle stroke of his thumb had been delicately inviting. The response of her own fingers had obviously grabbed his attention. Now this kiss. Not passionate, in no way desperate, no tangling of tongues, although she would respond to a gentle probe from his with a tender search of her own

Brad was equally pleased with the mutual balance of gentility in the kiss. Cautiously, he placed his left hand across her, to lay it on her waist where he could feel her body warmth under the covering sheet. No jerking reaction came from Sara except, maybe greater pressure of her lips on his. Surreptitiously, he allowed his hand to slide up to cover her right breast, a rapturous sensation in spite of the sheet.

A rapturous sensation was definitely what Sara experienced as Brad's hand moved on her breast. Fearfully she realised that if that sheet had not been there she may have lost control by now. The triggers were still all on alert. That twitching between her thighs, pleasurable as it was, had to be contained. Sara was well aware that Brad had moved things forward during their last session. She was determined to play her part in getting their relationship right. 

Relationship? It was the first time her mind had driven along that path. A future together? Is that what she-? That was the moment that she jerked as Brad's hand moved slowly across her belly, over her pubic area, and onto her upper thigh where his fingers curled lightly as though to probe her groove.

It was the moment, too, when Brad, well aware of the risks, broke their kiss, placed his lips close to her ear, and whispered, "Easy, Sara. Nice and easy. No rush, no push, unless you wish it." 

"And I will wish it, probably very soon," Sara almost grunted her response.

Brad had one small idea which he hoped might help Sara extend her time. Leaning over her now, his fingers becoming aware of the moistness under the blanket he looked into her eyes and said teasingly, "I do notice that I'm being left to do all the work. All I've had is a few strokes along my back."

Sara looking up at him, noticing his teasing tone, seeing the impudent smile on his face, was impelled to push herself up, heave Brad onto his back, and kiss him with some passion. Her hands patrolled his shoulders, belly and thighs, trying hard to keep her mind away from his steely erection. Yet she remained very much aware that it was there, jutting out hungrily, and that awareness brought familiar tingles to her insides. 

Her movement had dislodged the sheet from much of her body, and Brad's fingers reached up to cover a naked breast. Sara gasped as she broke the kiss and she fought her body spasms.

Was it that caress, or something else, that provoked her next unexpected gesture? Knowing exactly what affect it might have on both of them, she had no power to resist. Leaning over him, she slid down over his belly and without any delay enveloped his erect penis in her mouth. Momentarily, that delightful warmth was filling her mouth, but only one cautious suck, and Brad's whole body jerked violently, an action which spilled him from Sara's mouth as she fell to one side.

"Oh, God, Sara, what have you—? That was—We have to—"

Sara realised exactly what they had to do? But had they failed the test? As Brad's body loomed between her parted thighs, she briefly took in his masculine face, etched with concern and desire. She had lost contact with his penis but sensed that he had it poised for entry.

"Can you-" God her breathing was difficult. " -be slow?" This was their only chance of making something new of this, she was sure. Above her, Brad's worried face, creased in a crazy grin.

He was thinking, 'What a question.' Yes, he could be slow, but with Sara eagerly awaiting his entry, he could guarantee nothing, although a steady approach had been his intention. Wasn't it the first time that he had been in charge of that entry? His penis weighed heavily in his own fingertips, as he guided that purple headed rogue between moist labia to nestle against her vaginal portal. Hope this is slow enough, Sara.

Sara was trying valiantly to subdue her anticipation. She was very aware that, beyond her control, the vaginal muscles along her entire length were already flexing. Brad's iron hard rod had pushed between her lower lips, and was poised now. Slowly, Brad, gently, Brad, delicately Brad. One inch, his penis had stretched her walls to be one inch inside her. Already it was a delight. The urge to heave up and force it onwards was massive, but she had to remain strong.

The slowness of that first inch had tested Brad's resolve. Being inside her was, as ever, so enervating, the need to give her all of it was massive. A second inch, and then another, and he was maddeningly aware of her vaginal muscles tugging at his penis like tentacles. So wonderful the sensation, so clinical was this need for control. At least her hips weren't flexing him upwards, and her breathing, although heavy did not sound desperate. Could they really get beyond their limit?

Even as Brad was asking himself the question, Sara was having grave doubts. Brad's entrance had been exquisitely slow, just as she wanted, but now he was there almost halfway into her, and she could sense the throbbing of his erection as it filled her, so immense, so demanding. Her hips and whole interior had demands of their own. If only she could get past this point. Oh, God, he was pulling back. Her vaginal muscles were on fire, as just as suddenly, she was aware of his rod driving with more force into her. Could she--could she--ride this? 

Brad knew he was almost completely inside her. Instead of pushing to the ultimate, he deliberately drew his penis back, before immediately giving a more forceful thrust. He sensed the tension in her body, and knew delaying her might be unkind. Her breathing, deeper now, told him she demanded release. 

His erection drew back once more, and Brad realised Sara had held on further than ever before. He ploughed upwards to full stretch, but as he did, and without any thought governing his action, his head lowered to a breast and his tongue lavished over her nipple. 

Every muscle in Sara's body had already been tense. She had been pleased to guide herself through those initial stages of Brad's slow plunge inside her. Control was good, had been her encouraging thought, even though the mental concentration was challenging. 

Then, came that one extra lunge, which was lifting enough, but allied to his tongue on her breast, Sara's muscles, so recently tensed, just went wild. Her arms wrapped tightly around Brad, as her hips heaved up at him, her thighs spread then tightened on his, her breasts pushed up into his face, until, momentarily, Sara was almost sitting up. Her body was out of control, yet, amazingly her orgasm was still building. But, it was oh so near.

Sara's frantic breathing, her gasps, and then the sheer madness of her bodily contortions, told Brad everything. In fact, the heaving of her hips around his erection had been electrifying, and had loosened any extra intentions he may have had. Along came that familiar build up way back at the base of his penis. Keen to be correct, he had time to grunt, "Yes?"

Sara was so relieved to hear his question, that she almost shouted, "Yes. Oh, yes!" Brad's wild onslaught almost lifted her up off the bed as he made three swift forceful jiggles with his solid rod, and Sara was happy to take them and surrender to her own fiery release, so all enveloping after the tension.

Together they heaved together, the one wanting to be totally inside the other, that other longing to take it all in. Their vocal cries of pure joy must have been heard way down the corridor, Brad thought.

At last, once more, they were lying together, sated, sweated, clinging. Sara managed to sigh the first comment, "I moved a long way."

"You did. You were wonderful."

"But all the tenseness in holding on—"

"We're being too clinical, perhaps?"

She raised her head to smile down at him, "But the release at the end makes it so worthwhile. Think we're getting better?"

"Obviously, do you-?"

Brad was interrupted by the zing zing sound of a cell phone. Sara sat up, "Mine," she whispered, "Can only be Jennifer."

She slid from the bed and trotted naked to where her handbag lay on a table. Brad loved the movement of her. No twitches, just pleasure at seeing her like that, and she was so easy with her nudity.

Jennifer's call was to ask if Sara could beg a lift home in Brad's car, because Sam hadn't a lift. Jennifer could take Sara's car and they could travel in privacy.

"Meaning I'd be in the way," Sara told Brad.

Brad smiled, the idea already appealed to him. "Another good test for us?"

"It will be."

And it was. For, at just before three o'clock, as Brad carried his bag to his car, a quick glance at Sara, sitting, as arranged in the rear seat, told him that familiar lower region urges still existed.

Eyes wide, Sara had stared back at him, and she too, knew that stirring deep down had not diminished. As Brad drove away from the hotel they talked briefly about it and then, for a time, completely changed the subject. With Sara sitting directly behind Brad, they talked about the weather, the views, and their respective houses.

Brad drove past his own house and Sara voiced her approval when she saw the white painted frontage of the place. 

When Sara had directed him to where she lived, Brad was delighted with just how easy the route between the two residences was. By the time they reached Sara's, they had both admitted that meeting on a regular basis might clear their problem




Just One Glance



Sara had giggled, "Some problem, not being able to keep our hands off each other."

When he stopped the car, he found her hand drifting over his shoulder. He clutched it warmly, and raised it to his lips. "Farewell, for now, Madam," he said lightly. "You know, if we meet every day I believe it will take no more than two weeks for us to hit normality."

Brad's estimation of two weeks was just a little adrift. It actually took almost two months before they could claim success. But in that time there were many highs but also one or two lows. 

One near disaster happened when they arranged to meet at a cosy restaurant. The moment Brad saw Sara arrive at the entrance he had to leap from the table, and look into her already heated face. The pair of them had to hurry out into the darkened car park, clamber into the rear seat, and like desperate young lovers practically consume each other.

Apart from Brad and Sara over that time, there came the evening when Jennifer burst into Sara's front room where Brad and Sara were quietly recovering from their exertions, to joyfully announce that her virginity was, at last, history. Sara's initial worry was quickly dispelled when Jennifer held up her left hand to reveal the small diamond sparkling there. Brad claimed that he had been the matchmaker.

For Brad and Sara, almost daily meetings were bound to succeed. So it was that by the eighth week they found that, while lust would always be there, it had become a controlled lust, held in check until a front door closed behind them. Free to explore and caress each other's body, they were able to come together with slow, sensuous, silky, sometimes salacious, skin on skin, seductions. Sensationally satisfying, but always, always loving.

As Sara often happily repeated, "I told you, it was preordained."

While Brad thought, "And we beat that mysterious devil."