0 comments/ 5402 views/ 0 favorites Silver Lining By: Chef Jeff The initial attraction was her art. It’s true; she wasn’t even there when I got to her booth at the Arts Festival. A triangular-shaped, rounded-edged piece with a crazy lid first caught my attention. “Touch it, if you like,” I heard from behind me. Flowing hair, flowing skirt, piercing but gentle eyes attached to the sweet voice. Sparks exploded into the timespace between us when I looked at her. That wonderful, hot sensation when immediate passion occurs. Good thing I didn’t have one of her creations in my hands then. I’m sure I’d have dropped it. “I like it a lot,” I replied, gathering some of the wits I did have before she arrived. I wasn’t sure if I meant the art or the feeling that danced through me, between us. Maybe both. We chatted about her work. She told me how she made some of the pieces. Two small round containers struck me. They had lightning bolts on top and jagged-edged lids. One had grooves that looked like raindrops inside. I asked how she had made them. “With my own fingers and a stick,” she responded. I imagined her working on the piece. Then, I imagined her working on me. The other one had a similar lightning bolt pattern on top, but inside was a smooth gray metallic glazed finish. “A silver lining,” I quipped. She laughed, asking if she could use that line to help sell that piece. It seemed appropriate, since I was trying to sell her something as well. I introduced myself, she told me her name too, and we shook hands. I thought there was something there when we looked at each other and spoke, but it was nothing compared to when we touched. Electricity, chemistry, connection! She smiled seductively but coyly; I just smiled my usual overly optimistic grin. She had other customers, so I departed. I stopped back, but she was busy again, so I just asked for a business card. I told her I would call her, had something I wanted to ask her, and looked around the festival a bit more, then left. I thought I would just phone her and try to arrange a meeting. After a few blocks of driving home, I turned around and went back to see her. Sometimes things like that are too hot to hold onto for very long; mostly, I just couldn’t wait. The sparks had turned to flames in me and I wanted to let them burn out of control with her, right then, that night. The booths at the festival were closing as I returned. Artists were packing their wares. I hoped I wasn’t too late. She had three friends/customers in her booth, making last minute purchases, so I just waited as she wrapped the works they had selected and collected her hard-earned reward. She kept looking at me as she worked; I never took my eyes off her. Then, I saw it, the silver wedding band. Shit! Now I’m usually quite good a spotting a wedding ring – usually I check that immediately. Maybe I didn’t think an attached woman would interact with me like she had. Or maybe the sparks just blinded me. Either way, my plan had just fallen to pieces! The plan I had formulated while returning to the festival was a very straightforward one. I was just going to ask her to come home with me and make wild passionate love with me. Just like that! Just let the sparks turn to flame in my bed and burn all night. So when she turned to me as the others left, I didn’t know what to say. She did. “Are you married?” she asked. I shook my head no. “I am,” she replied, “these things should be known.” “I just saw the ring now.” I laughed a little, thinking of my foolishness. “I came back here to try to seduce you. I had felt something earlier; maybe I was just fantasizing. I have a pretty good imagination sometimes.” “You’re not wrong about that, we felt it. Would you help me close up?” We carefully placed her clay sculptures on the floor and in some boxes. She pulled down the flaps of the booth. We were in the middle of downtown, with hundreds of people around, but we had our own private timespace. The canvas was white and there were a few lights outside so that our area had a kind of glow to it. “Looks like we have our own silver lining right here,” I said. She smiled at my re-fashioned humor. She came over, put her arms around me, and kissed me hard on the mouth. I kissed her back hard, pulling her closer to me as the fireworks in the silver-lined booth began. “Quick, before I change my mind,” she whispered. She pulled her dress over her head, brilliant hair everywhere. Bra and panties flew off her and onto the ground. I pulled off my shirt, she undid my pants and I kicked them off. I touched her; she was already wet. She touched me and I was instantly hard. She raised one foot onto a short pedestal and guided me into her. We kissed each other more passionately, rocking back and forth, in and out, touching, passion’s fury unleashed. The silver-tinted canvas showed our shadows locked in untamed embrace. And I suspect we both could see and feel the sparks of the meteoric moment splashing onto the canvas. She threw her head back in a muted orgasmic frenzy and I plunged into her even harder to send her over the edge. I felt her excitement wash over me, coating me with her enjoyment. This inspired an explosion from me into her. I felt her grip me as my last thrusts melted inside her. We locked in a new kind of passionate kiss, the kind that only passion-fulfilled lovers know how to give. She broke away, scooped up my pants and shirt and handed them to me. As I put them on, she wrapped one of her pieces, handed it to me, and pushed me through the flaps on the booth. I walked a little, feeling the coolness of the evening as compared to the heat in the space I had just left. I sat down on a park bench, opened the hastily wrapped package, and removed the gift. Lightning bolt on top, silver lining inside. Sometimes, even a silver wedding ring can have a silver lining. Silver Lining *********** Chapter 1 *********** I laid stark naked in the center of the large bed. The room was dark and the window was open. The cool summer breeze caused my stiff dick to wave back and forth like a magic wand. The door was slightly ajar, allowing shiver of light to penetrate the darkness. I could hear her footsteps as she drew near. Each second seemed to be lasting a millennium. Finally, the door started to creak open on its rusty hinges. The bright light silhouetted her magnificent figure, while at the same time obscuring the details. I could see the outline of her narrow waste, womanly hips, and full breasts, but I couldn't make out her face. Her hair was long and wavy, but the color was impossible to determine. She paused for a second, allowing me to savor the view. My body started to tremble with anticipation. I tried to sit up but found myself unable to move. All my extremities felt like lead—all except my cock, which continued to dance in the wind. It was burning with desire. My attention snapped back to the doorway as she started to move. She slowly approached the bed. She leaned forward and kissed my cheek gently, and her hair tickled my face. She smelled like some exotic flower and I was immediately filled with lust. Suddenly I was able to move my arms and I used them to embrace her naked body. I pulled her into bed next to me, and we began rubbing our hot bodies together. Neither of us could control our lust. I rolled onto my back and she straddled me. With one quick move she guided my penis into her nether regions. It felt like bliss. Explosions seemed to be going off in my mind. I couldn't move. I found myself gasping for breath. She placed her hands on my chest and started to ride my cock. I reached for her hips and closed my eyes as I prepared to thrust. Suddenly the door slammed. My head jerked and my eyes opened. The room was full of light. My eyes darted around frantically. It was daylight. The bedroom window was open, but there was no breeze. I was fully clothed. Most importantly, I was alone. It was just an erotic dream. The third one in a week. Like all the other nights, the only part that was still there in the morning was the throbbing hard-on in my shorts. I glanced over at the nightstand. It was a little after eleven—much too early be out of bed for a day without class. I heard keys in the front door. I realized it was the slamming car door which had brought my fantasy to a premature ending. I rolled over, hoping I could a little longer before I talked to her. The bedroom door swung open. "Too late," I thought to myself. I cracked one eye and watched as Haley strolled in carrying a few shopping bags and a suitcase. She glanced over and caught me looking before I could feign sleep. "You're still in bed?" she asked. "No," I quipped, "I'm washing the windows." I bit my tongue as soon as the words left my lips. I hadn't intended to be a wiseass, it had just happened. Actually, it had been happening a lot recently, and I wasn't the only guilty party. Haley glared at me for a second then continued with her business. I tried to make up for my misstep. "What have you been doing this morning?" I asked. She looked at me with shifty eyes, wondering if I was setting her up for another barb. When she realized I was sincere she answered. "I got up a few hours ago and met my mother for breakfast, then we did some shopping." "Did you have fun?" I asked, trying to show interest. "Yes," she answered. "Actually, we realized that we haven't been spending enough time together, so I decided I'm going to pack some things and go and stay with my parents for a week." "Stay with them?" I asked. "They live less than an hour from here. Can't you go visit them every day for a week?" Haley stopped what she was doing and glared at me again. "That's not the same," she said. She turned her back and began sorting through her closet, presumably selecting which outfits to pack. I presumed our conversation was over, so I just laid in bed watching. I realized almost immediately that my cock was still throbbing slightly from my dream. Staring at Haley's shapely little ass seemed to be fanning the flames of desire. She was dressed very nicely—one of the many things her mother expected from her. Her butt was nicely displayed in her tight black slacks. Her blonde hair was pushed back with a tortoiseshell headband. Her sleeveless white sweater showed off her toned arms, and clung to the curves of her small bosom. The outfit reminded me of our first date. She had been wearing white and black that night, as well. A tight cashmere sweater with even tighter leather pants. Those clothes had been on the floor by the end of the evening, and so had their occupant. I had fucked her on the floor of her parents basement, and it had been spectacular. She had wanted it rough, and I had been more than willing to oblige. We'd fucked until sunup, and I had snuck out of the house leaving a sweat-covered lover behind me. Before the sun set that night, I had been back for more. Thinking back made me realize just how much Haley had changed in the last few months. The wild, sex-crazed girl had been replaced by a more demure, sophisticated young woman. She had a closet full of sexy outfits, but chose a more conservative look on most occasions. "When was the last time we had sex?" I wondered to myself. Two weeks was the answer I came up with. Two long, agonizing weeks. For a married couple that may have been acceptable, but for two nineteen year olds, it was a sign that things were deteriorating. Thinking back to the beginning made my cock twitch. For months, sex had defined our relationship. Sex had remained integral even when we realized we were in love. Against everyone's advice we had got a place together after only six months, and at first everything had been great. The problems started after the first month. Haley's parents didn't approve, and the strain on their relationship wasn't helping ours. We started to bicker. We were sharing the same bed every night, but sex was no longer a prerequisite to sleep. And now, here I was, realizing that two weeks had passed, and knowing that if she went home my dry streak would go on even longer. Before I met Haley, that thought alone would have been enough to drive me into a frenzy. Now, despite the fire in my pants, I was surprised to realize that another weak of forced celibacy wasn't my biggest fear. I realized that for the first time in my life I was scared that a relationship might be ending. I was scared of what might happen if I allowed her to leave without making amends. I removed the covers and sat up in bed. My erection was still causing a tent in my pant, but it had subsided enough to not be overly noticeable. Haley was still shuffling through the closet, trying to choose a couple of skirts to pack. I walked over and stood behind her. My diminutive girlfriend wheeled around and glared up at me. Her brown eyes were still filled with fire from my earlier comment. "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to sound rude. It's just that I'll miss you. We've never been apart for an entire week. Who will I have to brighten my days?" Her eyes softened a little bit. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. When I stood up again she was smiling and her eyes were twinkling. "Are you sure you have to go?" I asked. "I think it's best," she said. "My mother feels that we don't get to see each other enough. It's only a week, baby." "I know," I said. I flashed her my best hurt-puppy-dog look. Haley giggled. Her smile was a welcome sight. "I haven't seen that enough lately," I thought to myself. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek. "Well, can I help you pack anything?" I asked. If she had to leave I wanted to make sure she left on good terms. "I don't think so," she said. "I'm all finished except my undies." She walked over to her dresser. "Ooh," I said playfully. "My favorite part." I stood behind her as she sorted through her drawers. Haley owned more lingerie than most department stores. She took her time picking out several pairs for her trip. The last thing she grabbed was a blue satin bra with a pretty floral print. It was one of two sets of underwear I had given her on her birthday along with jewelry and a night on the town. "So," I said playfully. "I see you're taking your pretty bra and panties home to show mother what your lover bought you." Haley laughed. "No, I don't think that will happen," she said. "My mom still has a hard enough time accepting that I'm on birth control and sexually active." "Not so much lately." It slipped out before I could stop myself. Haley's head jerked up and she stared at me. I could feel the tension mounting and I wanted to say anything to prevent a fight. "So, where's the other set I bought you?" "The what?" she asked. The sudden change in subject had confused her. "The other lingerie. I don't see it in your drawer." I could tell that part of her mind was still stuck on my ill-advised quip, but it was fading. She glanced back over her shoulder at the overflowing drawer full of intimate. Her forehead wrinkled for a second, and then I saw a gleam of recognition in her eye. "Oh! I'm wearing them," she said. "You can't be," I said. "They're too bright. I'd see them through your sweater." The bra I was referring to was white satin with a bold pink floral pattern. "No," she said. "The material is thick enough that the color doesn't show through." "Bullshit," I said. "You lost my gift and now you're trying to cover." "I am not," she said excitedly. "Then prove it," I said. "How?" "Show me." Haley cocked her head and glared at me. It was a playful look with none of the earlier menace. "Fine," she said. She pulled the bottom of her sweater up allowing me a quick glimpse of the white and pink bra. "There!" "I didn't get a look," I protested. "Show me again, but slower." She gave me another glare, but this time lifted her sweater without comment. She held it up for several seconds, giving me plenty of time to take in the sexy bra and the small breasts straining against it's confinement. My penis started to twitch as she pulled the sweater back down. "How about that?" she asked. "Now are you satisfied?" "Not at all," I replied. Haley instantly recognized the lust in my eyes. "Why don't you come closer and do it one more time?" I sat down on the edge of the bed. Haley flashed me a provocative smile that I hadn't seen in quite some time. She took two steps towards me. "Where do you want me to stand?" she asked coyly. I pointed at a spot on the floor directly in front of me. She obliged. "Right here?" she asked. Her voice had become husky and seductive. I nodded my head to approve the spot. "This is awful close," she commented. I just continued to nod as she grabbed the waist band of her sweater and slowly hoisted it. Sitting on the bed, my face was perfectly even with your bosom. I leaned forward, rubbing my cheek against one satin clad breast. Haley sighed. She wrapped her arms tightly around my head and held it firmly against her body. I could already feel her nipple stiffening against my cheek. I turned my head and nipped it gently through her bra, causing her to moan. Months of practice had taught me exactly how to push Haley's buttons. She ran her fingers through my shaggy dark hair, then released my head and took a step back. With one quick movement she pulled her sweater completely off and cast it aside. She kicked her heels off and loosed her hair. Standing in the sunlight in just her bra and slacks she looked like a goddess. After all our time together, I still never stopped noticing how beautiful she was. A meek smile crossed her lips. She knew I was admiring her, and it always made her uncomfortable. Haley had been a late bloomer and still wasn't entirely used to guys gawking at her. Finally, she broke the silence. "It's been two weeks since we made love," she said quietly. I nodded in agreement. "I can't believe it's been that long." She paused, trying to vocalize her thoughts properly. "When you made that comment earlier, at first I was mad, but then it hit me that you were right. Then I was just confused. It was the first time I realized it's been so long, and I don't know how it happened." A solitary tear started running down her face. "What's happening to us?" she said. Instantly I was off the bed. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close to me. I ran my fingers through her dirty blonde hair. "It's okay," I said. "We'll be fine. We're just going through a tough spot." "I love you so much," she said. Then she broke down and started sobbing. She buried her face against my bare chest. We just stood there for several moments and I held her, letting her cry it all out. As the tears subsided I guided her to bed and we sat down next to each other. She wiped her face and managed a half smile. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm overreacting." "It's okay," I said. "You're just being you. You're being the girl I fell in love with, and I can't be upset by that." Her smile became a bit stronger. "Really?" she said. "Why do you love about me?" "Everything." "Like what?" she asked. "Like your personality," I said. "Your sense of humor. Your intelligence. Your kindness." Haley's smile took over her face. I touched the corner of her upturned lip. "Your smile". I touched a lock of hair dangling near her eyes. "Your gorgeous hair." I rubbed her cheek. "Your soft skin." I leaned forward and softly kissed her. "Your sweet lips." I pulled back and noticed that Haley's eyes were now filled with lust. She placed her hand in my lap and gently rubbed by cock. Her touch sent chills through my body. "I definitely love that," I said. "You like that?" she teased. I just nodded. I was wearing athletic shorts and no underwear. Haley slipped her hand in the waist band and pulled them down. My wrapped her hand around the base of my semi-erect cock. The weeks of neglect caused it to jump with her touch. She slowly slid her hand up its length. By the time she reached the tip it had become a piece of steel. I watched eagerly as she stroked my big dick with her tiny hand. I started breathing heavily. Haley flashed me a wicked smile then put her tongue in my ear. She swirled it around slowly, knowing how much I liked it. "I'm going to make you come," she whispered seductively. Haley was the queen of hand jobs. She gave me one every time we went to the movies. She tightened her grip on my erection and slowly slid up from the base of my cock. She squeezed the head, then slid back down. She nibbled at my earlobe as her hand started moving faster and faster. She firmly squeezed the head every time she came up. My breaths became short and shallow. Haley increased her rhythm and I gyrated my hips. "You like me jacking you off?" she whispered. "Yes!" I hissed. She pumped faster. I could feel my balls tensing. She started jerking it gently. She gave the head a final squeeze and I exploded. Gobs of come shot out of my penis. Some fell to the floor, but most oozed over Haley's hand. I collapsed onto the bed, trying to catch my breath. She made a big show of licking my jizz of each of her fingers. As soon as she finished I went for her belt. I told Haley to lay on her back. I quickly unfastened her tight black slacks and cast them aside. The white and pink satin panties were just as sexy as the bra. They were tight, and clung to her perfect little ass. I paused a moment to enjoy the site, then started jerking the panties down. I placed my hands inside Haley's smooth, muscular thighs and spread her legs. Haley's pussy was covered by a nicely trimmed bush. I could already see drops of juice collecting on the hairs. The room was filled with her musky aroma. I slowly ran my fingers around her outer lips, gently prodding them. Haley's large clitoris was swollen and very visible. I rubbed it gently with my thumb and she groaned with pleasure. She nodded approvingly as I leaned forward, brining my lips to her fertile valley. Using my index finger, I gently lifted her clit. I touched it with the tip of my tongue and slowly licked it. Haley gasped. She placed her hands on the back of my head. I could feel her scratching me scalp, urging me to continue. I sucked her clitoris into my mouth. She groaned out her approval. I nibbled on it gently, the gave it a soothing lick. Haley started writing around in the sheets. Meanwhile, my penis was getting hard again. I brought two fingers up to her vagina and parted the lips. I placed my tongue at the base of her pussy and slowly licked my way back up. When I reached the top, I started sucking her clit again. Haley started begging for more. Eagerly, I began lapping at her pussy. I ran my tongue up and down, then swirled it around her outer lips. I nipped gently at her clit and teased it with my teeth and tongue. Haley was squealing loudly. She continued begging for more. I gripped her clit with my teeth and slowly pulled outwards. I placed a finger at her asshole and pushed lightly. "Oh, do it!" Haley cried. She forced her hips outward, smearing my face with her juices. I ran my finger through some of her juices for lubrication, then quickly slipped it in her ass. She went wild. Her body started contorting. She closed her thighs tight around my face and called my name. I continued sucking up her juices as she climaxed. Her orgasm finally subsided, but she was hungry for more. Haley rushed to embrace me and covered my face with frantic kisses. She delighted in tasting her own juices on my lips. "That was incredible!" she panted. "I want to make you feel that good." She instructed me to lay on my back, and then she straddled my legs. My semi-erect dick stood just inches away from her flat tummy. She grasped it and rubbed the head around her navel. With her other hand, she lowered one cup of her bra, revealing her perfect, perky little breast. She grasped her own nipple and twisted it gently while her other hand started pumping my manhood. With each tweak of her nipple she uttered a small squeal. The sights, sounds and sensations were enough to make me rock hard. I grabbed Haley's small waist and started sliding her forward. "You want my pussy?" she asked. She always turned very trashy during sex. It was a turn on for both of us. "Give me that pussy," I answered. She rose up enough for me to enter her. I aligned my cock with her entrance and started thrusting. My petite goddess impaled herself on my tool. She sat quietly for a second, trying to maintain control. I gave her a couple of quick bounces, and she was immediately pushed over the edge. She fell forward and buried her face in my chest as she was shook by her second orgasm. "Oh shit!," she said finally, as she sat up. "I didn't expect that. It came out of nowhere." "Do you think you have another one in you?" I asked playfully. "Are you fucking kidding?" she asked. She reached up and lowered the other cup of her bra. Now both of her pointy little titties were exposed and still being thrust up by the underwire. She started playing with her nipples with one hand. The other went straight to her clit. She groaned loudly as I placed my hands on her hips and started fucking her. We both tried to go slow at first, but it was impossible to control ourselves. Haley pulled on her nipples and called out my name as she bounced up and down on my dick. "Oh, yes!" she cried. "Fuck me hard. Fuck me hard." Haley always liked it rough. She had confessed that on our first night together. I wrapped my arms around her torso and pulled her flat on top of me. I gripped her tightly and began thrusting fact and forcefully. Haley continued to plead for more at the top of her lungs. I knew another orgasm was approaching. Silver Lining It was one of the curses that came with the job – football, but that was due mostly to the crowds coming to watch it of course – a rowdy lot, drawn by the opportunity and offers of plentiful cheap drink. I hated it, and the Euro '04 Championship was just the pits for me, because there I was, behind the bar without any other choice in the matter. Yet even situations such as these can have a silver lining, or as the events of that one particular evening proved, the silvery-sheen'd lining of satin panties… It was a healthy crowd, with all the tables being occupied and every free seat shifted into position ready for the best view, leaving a few latecomers to stand along the sides – everyone was focused on the three screens, and it was a fuckin' nightmare getting between them to collect the glasses that they were too lazy, stupid or thoughtless to take back to the bar with them when going back for more drink. I'd seen her enter and come to the bar when she first came in, a blind man could have sensed her presence from the sensual aura she projected. Although I wasn't on alone that night, and at the wrong end of the bar from where she chose to stand, I still managed to work my way toward her, serving those already in place along the way, and getting her the drink of her choice, before anyone else came near her. She was already different for that place, simply by her choice of clothing – a silky dress, simple but quite stylish and pleasingly form-fitting all around. The norm being more in the direction of unimaginatively short skirts, and badly matching other apparel – just shite chain store clothing combined with no taste. I liked her already, but the immediate smile and open attitude she displayed, just won me over. Her accent was pleasingly mysterious too – not obviously from anywhere in particular. As I was busy working, the joy was short-lived as other matters forced her from my mind – besides, she had come in with a suitably matching male. Memory of her smile and well fitting clothing, did lighten the occasional moment though, when things quietened down sufficiently to think of stuff other than work. Later, I saw her on my next round of collecting glasses – I couldn't believe that the guy with her had brought her out on a date, which looked to be the first by their body-language, and tried to combine his need to see the match being played, with his need to be with her. That first time of going past them, they seemed to be having a difficult beginning to their conversation, what with the TV's pull calling his attention, even with his back turned toward it. I also noticed that she had absolutely stunning legs, and that her dress which came down to mid-thigh when she'd been stood, had ridden up to a very alluring just-below-the-crotch level, now that she was sat. It's not that I go around surreptitiously eyeing-up the customers' bodies, but her legs and the high-crept hem did draw the eye without giving any choice in the matter, leaving plenty for the imagination to work on. As I approached, she looked up and smiled at me in that same friendly way, and unsure if I'd been caught out, was careful to look only at her eyes until out of her attention-range once more, briefly appreciating how those legs were moulded and flared into the smooth curve of her hips, then back in toward a mobile, narrow waist topped by a youthful, tight upper torso. On the second round of glass collecting, I saw her gamely trying to get into what was going on in the match. She was sat further back on her chair but leant forward, with her nearer leg tucked back partially under the seat and her other angled slightly outwards, extending half under the table in graceful counterbalance. I found myself more fascinated by what the few centimetres of pooled fabric draped low over her lap might hide, especially as the light dress showed no evidence through its hang, of her wearing any slip or such, and there was a definite shadow there between her demurely partial-opened legs, making certainty all the more impossible to gauge – my fascination now had become quite intense. The third time, I came around and she was reclined back in her chair, one arm over its back and turned more outwards into the room, away from the conversation. Clearly they had given up on talking, as he was turned around almost fully to watch the action for real, with no further pretence to the contrary. Maybe it was my imagination, but her legs seemed to be slightly more parted than earlier, and her dress was now rucked up to the point that it couldn't possibly have been higher without exposing herself, panties or not. She smiled again as I passed, more in a glad to have some human contact sort of way, but I though I saw an impish flicker on her features as she turned back to her drink. I nodded and continued on, casting a glance back I saw her looking after me – Ho, ho…maybe football had it's advantages after all! I nodded to her again, and she'd smiled back, turning once more to her almost done drink. I made it back behind the bar well before she came up for a refill, making straight toward me instead of the other bar-staff, all in that classic dream sequence sort of way that American Beauty had rendered so well. I was of course, just as hooked. With a fresh drink in her hand and a parting smile, she was gone again – letting sound re-introduce itself into the mix of everything going on around me once more. As she hadn't brought her old glass back, it meant I could go and get it – the implications and calculations clicking off each-other in my head, I set off to do just that, just as soon as the sporadic flow of customers allowed it. Entering her part of the bar, I saw she'd contrived to adjust her dress and posture a little more, so I could clearly see a smooth sliver of her silver-white slip, pristine and taut between her carelessly parted thighs – it was all visible to me, even from across the room. Furthermore, she had her attention fixed on the screen in such a concentrated way, as if offering implicit permission for me to look with leisure, and feast my mind on that beautifully contrasting strip being so casually displayed – her thighs even swaying slightly open and closed to some inner rhythm, as she sat and watched what she wasn't even interested in. This had started to become more than I could comfortably bear, and my half tumescence began a slow hardening toward full readiness. It was during that approach that I came to realise no one else could really see what I was seeing – all of their attention was directed upwards and past her at one of the screen. She could have opened her legs wide to the world, and none of them would have realised it…never have I thanked my dislike for the sport so much as I did that day. As I collected her glass, I chanced a quick look downwards, very much awed by the sight of her satin panties still visible even at that angle. Looking up just as quickly, I caught her own glance catching at my crotch, with its tell-tale thickened bulge down one trouser leg, almost on a level with her eyes. We both smiled a little self-consciously. Of course, I made the trip around to collect glasses and change ashtrays every chance I could get after that, always approaching from that direction affording me the most unimpeded viewing time. She seemed to have entered into a game, as her dress hem had ridden visibly higher by the next trip, but still no one seemed to have noticed the stunning display in their midst of smooth satin and its tantalising curve of down and between. The time after, I saw her idly toying with the fabric, lifting it back and then smoothing it down again, her hand rested the whole while in her lap, with fingertips almost touching her panties. I could not help but notice the darker trace of emerging dampness. The following two times, she looked up at me whenever I came into sight, although did nothing to cover herself, as if daring me, or somehow oblivious to what she was showing. The latter time, her date was up at the bar, and we exchanged a few non-directed words, eyes communicating via our glances, what we were really saying – it was just a waiting game now – would it be a phone number handed over at the evening's end, or would she wait around… She must have gone to the toilet in the meantime, as I got a most pleasant shock with my next walk-around – her panties were gone, and her hem although lower, was still high enough for me to see everything clearly. It was a most enchanting view, with her sat back and slumped forward in her seat, arms folded and legs slightly parted, pouting at both ends. I almost couldn't believe my luck, and glad of the same all around fixed-attention on the screen, meaning that covering up for my erection now so visible in my tight work trousers, was unnecessary. Wondering what she was doing between my trips around the bar didn't help matters any. I started imagining her touching herself – but my not seeing that, began to drive me crazy with need to see if my possibly over active imagination was correct – sometime it is. She'd have got away with it too, in that crowd. Then the match was over and the bar was four deep for the next forty-five minutes, all arriving in a rush while everyone refilled in a rolling wave of swiftly consumed rounds. Needing more glasses for the bar, I went back out after it had all died down enough, to find her seat empty. It was still empty a little while later, and her date's too. The final evidence came when a group of other drinkers had moved in to take the table and empty seats for themselves – she'd definitely gone! Thereafter I felt like shit, beating myself up for not having said something during one of those opportunity calls – even a simple comment about ‘this damn sport' would have helped lead somewhere, maybe. Then I started cursing myself for being used like that – thinking that she'd just been heating herself up for some hot sex later, maybe he'd been in on the act and grooving on the buzz of someone getting hot for his girl; and possibly at her act of exhibitionism, in his presence. Needless to say, I didn't much enjoy the rest of the shift, which was mercifully short after the match was over – just getting stuck into the work and trying to forget the unforgettable. It wasn't until we'd stopped serving them, and I was down in the lonely little office counting up the tills, that I remembered the security cameras… Sure enough, one had a pretty good three-quarters view of her, although the tabletop from that angle, might just prove to be a problem – I wouldn't know until the later footage. But I stopped it there, knowing that I'd better get the bar closed up before going any further – and that was the worst part, the waiting casually while the other staff did their part of the cleaning up, and then sat around for the traditional chill-out beer or two before heading off home into the night. Claiming the need to do some roster alterations for the coming week in the computer-system, I let them all leave before locking up then heading back down the stairs. On fast forward, I skimmed to the part where things looked like they might start getting interesting – going back a few times after catching something in her movements that looked promising. Mostly they were just innocent enough changes of posture, but in my heated up state, it all looked like the action I wanted. About half way into the time my memory said she'd been sat there, I decided to just let it run real-time. Her posture had altered to become more slumped down in the seat, and I recognised a bit with myself going by, and casually glancing down, hoping to catch more of a glimpse between her legs. Despite my fascination, it was all just a lot of her moving about in her seat, fidgeting mostly with boredom because of what was on the screen. Even when I saw the beginning of her ‘flirtation' with me, it all looked pretty tame. I got to see a pixelated splash of pale panties again though, and saw how she had indeed contrived subtly to raise the hem of her dress before each round I made. I saw her during those moments keeping an eye out at the bar for my leaving it, and in the meantime also checking regularly to see if anyone else had caught onto the view she was offering. There were some ambiguous moments when her hands were out of sight, and in the area of interest – but I couldn't see anything, or at least not enough to be sure. One thing that did make me feel better throughout all this manoeuvring however, was the fact that her date seemed as oblivious to it all as everyone else – so I hadn't quite been used in quite that way, not after all. When she'd made that trip to the toilet and come back sans panties, it seemed that she hadn't been on the same wavelength as my imagination had hoped she was – perhaps the heat of the thrill being sufficient for her, and fuel enough for later, when having sex, or in bed alone. That thought cheered me up quite a bit, for it might mean a return visit…if the fantasy and orgasm were good enough. Then out of the blue, she just looked around with one long sweep of a glance, and opening her legs a little wider, she put her hand under the hem and began to stroke herself with short sharp jerks of the hand, sliding a little lower in her seat and opening herself even further to the unaware world all around her. I rewound in partial shock, replaying the segment again, slowly. That second time around it didn't seem so obvious as the first impression had led me to believe – yet what it lacked in resolution detail, it certainly made up for in sheer heat. The clip was a voyeur's nirvana – all around her, faces were looking intently up at the screen, whilst there she was in their midst, bare legs quite open, panty-less and playing with herself in full view, taking the occasional glance around to see if she was still unobserved. It was almost surreal to the point of looking fake, like the clip must have been artfully superimposed, due to the lack of effect it was having upon her surroundings. And it went on for almost two minutes – with her trying to keep from being too obvious, yet her legs needing to open wider as she inserted a finger, then two, head going back a little as the impending moment carried her away. A goal during the last minute of the match put a stop to her wonderful display, just as it looked like she would orgasm – the spectators surged upwards in response, with a collective shout of approval that struck me as comical. But she was on her feet too – scooping her jacket and bag up in one sweep, and was gone out of the door even before the silent roar of approval on the screen was done and the mutual back-pounding could begin. I sat there for a short while in silent contemplation, awed by what I'd seen, and sorry for her that she hadn't managed to finish herself off in peace. I wasn't in the mood anymore to masturbate either, although I'd doubtless do so later, when home. It also explained her untimely exit, and I wondered if she'd ever come back into the bar, ever again. Silver Lining Rowena didn't swear. She never had done and thought those women who did lacked the intelligence and vocabulary to communicate properly. But today! To call it a bad hair day was an understatement. It seemed everything had gone wrong, which was why she had stayed late at the office to try and put things right; why she was driving home in the dark, her wipers struggling to clear the torrential downpour flooding the windscreen. Maybe just this once, she thought, it might be a relief to let rip with a good old fashioned expletive. She certainly needed to explode when, a mile from her apartment, the engine died. At first it was shock, then anger, then depression as she steered to a stop by a thankfully clear kerb. Briefly burying her head in her hands she decided enough was enough. She just wanted to get home and close the world out. She'd deal with whatever ailed the car in the morning. Scrabbling in the glove pocket she found piece of paper and scrawled on it "Broken - Bust - Kaput - Don't Work" and stuck it in the windscreen. Climbing out she locked the car before, briefcase on her head in a futile attempt keep her hair dry, she set off along the road. The chill wind snatched at her skirt and struck with chill fingers through her panty hose. This was the seedy, run-down part of town leading to the more salubrious Clanaton area where she had lived in solitary comfort since her divorce. The council was supposedly about to launch a regeneration plan for it. And not before time, she thought tramping wearily into the driving rain. Every second street light seemed to be broken, the small shops either boarded up or closed and shuttered. Not a soul in sight except a hooded figure sheltering in an open doorway up ahead. Suddenly apprehensive Rowena looked to avoid him. Maybe she should cross to the opposite pavement - but there wasn't one. Bishop's Park stretched a tentacle of trees and bushes down the other side of the road, a bulwark separating this neighbourhood from up-market Dunkesmead. She trudged on. Just before she reached the doorway the figure left its shelter and walked slowly up the road ahead of her. A hundred yards and it stopped, turned and waited for her. Thinking it might be wise to go back she glanced behind her - two more hooded figures were leaving the open doorway and starting after her. Too late, she was sandwiched between the one in front and the two behind. Uncertain, she approached the single man - perhaps, after all, he wasn't waiting to stop her. But as she got close he raised a hand and said, 'Wrong way, bitch. We've organized the fucking party for you back there.' Thankful that she was wearing low heeled driving shoes and not her stilettos, Rowena ignored the intermittent traffic and impulsively darted across the road toward the park, frantically searching for a gap in the bushes. As she saw one and burst through to the grass beyond she heard a squeal of brakes and an angry horn behind her. They were after her! Fifty, sixty yards and she reached a path. The going was easier, but she was only a little way along when the thud of feet behind said they were gaining. Panic forced her to run faster. It was no use, a hand clutched the back of her coat. Slipping on the wet surface she fell in a heap, her pursuer on top of her. 'Over here, guys,' he shouted. With a struggle Rowena rolled over and kneed him in the stomach, making him gasp. 'You'll pay for that, bitch. After we've done fucking you, we'll pass you on to a few of our friends so's they can have their fun. You'll not find them as gentle as us.' She yelped as he twisted her arm behind her back. 'Excuse me, can I be of any assistance?' An oldish man with an erect military bearing standing some ten yards further up the path. Leaning on a walking stick he surveyed the scene with an air of disapproval. Where had he appeared from? The three attackers looked at each other then back at him. 'Piss off!' One of them said. 'Help! Help me, please. They're going to rape me,' Rowena pleaded. Brandishing a flick knife one of the attackers moved menacingly toward the man. In response he lifted his stick and pointed it at the hoodlum's chest. The thug grabbed the end and pulled; seemingly there was no resistance and he stumbled back a pace holding what could now be seen was only the sheath of a thin, rapier-like sword-stick. Regaining his balance, the thug rushed forward and recklessly attempted to stab the man, who neatly skewered the wrist holding the knife. The attacker shrieked and dropped his weapon. 'Anyone else want to try?' The man calmly said staring at the three miscreants. 'I used to be an expert with this.' No one answered. He shrugged, 'Let her go.' Slowly, watchfully the hoodlums drew back. 'Pick up the knife, my dear. Don't hesitate to use it on any of them if they try to hold you.' Hastily grabbing the knife and her briefcase from the grass and Rowena moved to stand behind the man. 'Good night, gentlemen. And don't try to follow us.' Catching Rowena's elbow her rescuer cautiously led her along the path. Truculently the three would-be rapists watched them go. Round a slight bend and the thugs were out of sight. The man stopped, turned to Rowena and asked, 'How are you feeling?' 'A bit shaky, but otherwise all right.' 'I can't see any injuries, except to your clothes. They're in a real mess.' Feverishly Rowena inspected what she could see of her coat. It was covered in mud and dirt and one arm was ripped - also she could feel her tights were in shreds and water from a puddle seemed to have soaked her skirt and briefs. 'Could be worse I suppose. Thankfully they're only working ones, not my best.' 'You don't seem bad in yourself. Maybe a little shocked and disoriented right now - as one would expect in the circumstances. But it will hit you soon. Might I suggest you come back to my place and rest until you feel better. It's just the other side of the park.' 'Thank you. I would like to sit down for a moment.' One hand on her elbow he drew her down the path to the Dunkesmead side of the park and out across a brightly lit road lined on its far side with a terrace of large Edwardian residences. 'I can't thank you enough. I shudder to think what they would have done to me if you hadn't come along.' 'Don't dwell on it. Glad to be of service. Life has been somewhat dull since my wife died. By the way I suppose I should introduce myself. Major Bowen, retired.' 'I might have guessed from the way you handled those yobs that you were a military man. I'm Rowena Moore-White, was Mrs. now, thankfully, back to plain Miss.' 'Pleased to meet you Miss Rowena Moore-White' 'And I you, Major.' 'Here we are. This is my billet.' He led the way through a low, wrought iron gate, up a short path to a solid door topped by a Tiffany style fanlight of stained glass depicting stylized flowers. Fishing a key from his pocket he opened the door and ushered her inside. The layout was traditional - a narrow hall with doors to the right side and what was probably the kitchen at the far end, while a staircase on the left led to the bedrooms on the upper floor. Just inside the entrance was a large coat stand and full length mirror. As she moved past Rowena paused to inspect the damage to her clothes. They might clean up, though she doubted it. At the moment she could have been a fugitive from a bout of mud wrestling. The Major hesitated and looked at her. 'You are in a bit of a state, my dear. But first things first. Let's deal with any shock. They do say the best remedy is hot sweet tea, though I was brought up to prefer a good tot of brandy. I think a hot toddy to start while we get you out of those clothes. After which I'll brew a pot of the other. Earl Grey suit you?' 'Sounds great, Major. But what can I wear?' 'Oh, I've still got most of my late wife's things. I'm sure there's a gown or bath robe amongst them.' 'That would be most kind.' 'And since I expect you've got a good few aches, not to mention the bruises, I would recommend a good hot bath.' 'I couldn't impose to that extent.' 'Not at all, my dear, it will be a pleasure. Come on let's get you into a warm tub. Then I'll find that hot toddy. I'll organize the tea while you're soaking.' Without waiting for a response he turned and marched up the stairs to the bathroom, Rowena perforce docilely following. The large, old fashioned, cast iron bath filling with steaming water, soft towels found in the airing cupboard, an old fashioned cotton dressing gown produced with a flourish, he said, 'Just get yourself undressed and into that. I'll go and get the drinks.' Muttering, "Good thing I decided to light the fire" he went down to the lounge and, grasping it from its place propped against an andiron, he stuck a poker in the coals of the open fire. While it was heating he collected the spirits from a cabinet in the corner and the sugar and spices from the kitchen. Ten minutes later he plunged the now hot poker into the mixture. The spicy scent of the toddy wafted around the room. Carefully carrying a steaming glass he returned to the bathroom and knocked on the door calling, 'Your remedy is without, Madam.' 'Just a moment.' Almost comatose in the bath Rowena roused to find a washcloth and arrange it over her pussy. She'd never been particularly shy before men, indeed she was rather proud of her shapely boobs and saw no reason to hide them. 'You may enter.' 'Here you are, my Lady.' Making no attempt to avert his gaze the Major handed the glass to her through the rising steam. For several moments he frankly and appreciatively inspected her breasts. 'Delightful,' he observed. 'Thank you, Sir. You are most discerning.' she smiled. Her cheeks reddened by more than the hot water as she noticed the way the front of his trousers bulged. He turned away and gathered her discarded clothes from where she had dropped them on the floor. 'I'll just run these through the washing machine. Get the worst of the dirt off.' As he left she caressed a full breast, unsurprised at the erect firmness of its nipple. She was conscious of her situation - naked in the house of a stranger who would clearly delight in bedding her. And if she were honest she rather welcomed the possibility, for it must be all of two years since a man had last filled her. She had almost despaired of finding someone both suitable and available for whom to part her thighs. But how ironic, and where was her logic? She runs in panic from the hoodlums who would take her, only to effectively offer herself to the first man to provide succour. Oh sex, wonderful sex, where logic and common sense capitulate to emotion and need. The warmth and the spirits were doing their job and Rowena was sleepily dozing when she heard him call, 'The tea is ready if you are.' 'Coming!' She replied. Climbing from the bath she swiftly dried herself as best she could, for her hair, despite being short and curly, defeated her efforts to restrain its wild exuberance. Wearing only the dressing gown she sedately descended the stairs. As she entered the lounge he asked 'Have you eaten, my dear?' 'Not since lunch. I was on my way home to get myself a meal when it happened.' 'I guessed as much. I've put a few vegetables on the stove. If it suits I'll add a cheese omelet. Very simple but perhaps suitable in the circumstances.' 'That would be delightful. Thank you so much.' Silver Lining 'As often as you wish.' Reluctantly she dressed in her now dry, but creased, blouse and skirt. She considered leaving her wrecked bra and panties in the waste bin but decided it would only be polite to take them with her and stuffed them into her pocket. In the lounge she found her briefcase and, using her mobile, Rowena phoned her workplace and informed them she would be late and might possibly not even make it before lunch. Ready at last she kissed him farewell. 'Until this evening. I hope,' she said. 'You must come to my apartment.' Leaving she noted the number of the house and strolled, her muscles aching from the activities of the night, back across the park to her car. She was in luck, it appeared unvandalised. Climbing in she decided to test the battery before calling the garage so inserted the ignition key and turned it. With a roar the engine started. For the second time in twenty-four hours she used an expletive. However, look at the good side she told herself, this was one dark cloud that had a siver lining. If the car had not acted up she wouldn't have met the Major. Smiling slightly she slid her hand under her skirt and massaged her furrow. That was worth any amount of trouble. Cheerfully she drove home, checked the post and had a long, hot shower while reflecting on the events of the last fifteen hours. Finally, dressed in fresh clothes, she set off to drive to work. Perhaps she ought to drop the car in the garage and have it checked. Or perhaps not. As she reached the bottom of the park where the road forked she impulsively turned left to drive past his house. It should be up here on the left. Three, five, then a gap and a block of new looking flats, then fifteen, seventeen - where was eleven? Mystified she drove to the end of the road, reversed back and parked by number fifteen. She was in luck, coming down the road was a postman. If anybody could direct her he could. He shook his head. 'You're five years too late. Used to be where that block is. The old Major owned numbers seven to thirteen, or 'twelve A' as they liked to call it. Nice man always good for a drink at Christmas. Then he died and some distant relative sold them to a developer who put up this eyesore.' Major? It can't be her major. 'Do you remember his name?' 'Owen, no Bowen. That's it Major Bowen.' Sounds like her major. He must have had a son. 'Oh, and what about his son?' 'Didn't have no son that I knew of. Told me once his biggest disappointment was he didn't have any children.' 'Oh, thank you then.' Thoroughly confused Rowena went back to her car. She sat and tried to reason it out. Who could it have been? Did someone take his name? Where was the house? Had she gone back in time? She is a rational businesswoman who doesn't believe in the mystic. At last she shook herself and, thoroughly disturbed, returned to her apartment. As she put the key in the door she could hear the music - quiet and gentle - Delius she thought. But she'd turned everything off before she left. Shutting the door behind her, she became aware of the smell of food. It reminded her, she was hungry. She looked into the kitchen. There, her frilly apron over his old dressing gown, the Major was stirring something in a saucepan on the stove. She felt a surge of relief and, moving stiffly, went to him. 'Are you able to stay?' She asked. 'If that is what you want.' Taking his hand she drew him to her bedroom and showed him what she wanted. Silver Lining Paul was nervous. What if she wasn't there? What if she was there and didn't recognize him? Worse, what if she was there, recognized him and laughed at him? He then told himself that he wouldn't know unless he tried. He just had to see her again. He had to find out if she'd felt the connection he'd felt ten days prior when they'd met for the first time. Ten days ago, they had both been stuck in the same lineup of vehicles waiting for a highway to reopen after a bad accident. Like a lot of other people, they'd parked their respective vehicles and walked around, talking to people. He hadn't gotten her name nor had he given her his own name but they had talked for a long time and had enjoyed each others' company. He'd thought of her as the silver lining in the dark cloud that had been that delay. He'd then kicked himself for not getting her name or number. But just now, he'd seen the sign announcing the company she'd said she was working for, at least, the name seemed like what she'd said. And so, he decided to pull into their parking lot and try to see her. As he made his way to the third floor where reception was, his nerves almost made him turn back. But he got up there and faced the receptionist. When she asked who he wanted to see, he was a bit sheepish. "Well, to be honest with you, I don't know her name. She told me she works here. She's about this tall, has long brown hair and glasses." "Anne Marie maybe?" "I'd only know her to see her, we didn't exchange names." "Well, here's your chance, she's right behind you." Paul turned around and saw her, the woman he'd been dreaming about for the last ten nights. Anne Marie saw him and smiled. "Hi!" She seemed really pleased to see him! His courage returned. "Hi! Is there a place we could talk in private?" "Of course! Come this way." She led him to an office just off the main open area they'd been in and then closed the door behind him. The office wasn't very private, being made of windows on two sides as it was on a corner to a hallway but it was better than being out in the open. She spoke first. "Sorry, this is as private as it gets in here but at least nobody can hear us unless we speak very loudly. I have to say I'm impressed! I can't believe you remembered where I work!" "You don't think this is too weird? I don't want to give you the impression I've been stalking you or anything." "No, no, don't worry. I'm actually flattered!" "Oh good. Gee, where to start?" "How about by telling me your name?" "Oh man, where are my manners? I'm Paul Maldovan. Glad to meet you officially." "Anne Marie Norman. And I'm glad to finally know your name!" As they shook hands, Anne Marie felt something like an electrical current move through them. Then, she saw movement behind him. Her co-workers were curious. Paul noticed and said "Why do I have the feeling that if I were to kiss you right now, you'd never hear the end of it?" "Probably because if you did kiss me, I would truly never hear the end of it." "Oh wait, I'm sorry. Are you married? Or otherwise with someone? If so, I'm really sorry for dropping in on you like this." "Paul, relax. No, I'm not married. I'm divorced and single. How about you?" "Me too." Just then, his phone beeped. Before he did anything, a female voice was heard. "Paul? You okay? The system says you're off the road." "I have to respond." Anne Marie nodded. "Yes mom, I know." "Don't call me mom!" said the voice on the phone. "Told you before I'll call you mom every time you act like my mom!" "Where are you? Why are you off course?" "I just stopped to see someone. I'll be back on the road shortly." "You can't be late Paul." "Mom, I'm way ahead of schedule. Don't worry I'll be there on time." "Who did you stop to see?" Anne Marie laughed and said "Tell her that she shouldn't ask questions if she doesn't want lies." "I like that!" And then he repeated it into the phone and added "Mom, the faster I get off the phone with you, the faster I can get back on the road." "All right, all right. Go." During that time, Anne Marie had taken one of her business cards and written on the back of it. Paul then said "I need to go. But I'll be back in town around 5:30 -- 6:00 pm. Would you have dinner with me?" "I'd love to. Here is my card. It has my cell phone number on it and I added my personal e-mail on the back." "Darn, I forgot my cards in my vehicle." "Why don't I walk you out to your truck and we can plan where to meet tonight while we walk?" As they made their way out of her office, someone yelled out "Hey Morning! Aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?" "Nope!" was the only answer they got. As Paul and Anne Marie made their way down and out, Paul asked "Did he call you Morning?" Anne Marie smiled and said "Anne Marie, AM, Morning? Get it?" Paul chuckled "And I'm Paul Maldovan. PM!" "That is too funny." As they walked towards the parking lot, Paul asked "How familiar are you with this town?" "Just a bit. I mostly know the south side, why?" "Do you know Ric's? The steakhouse at the Sheraton? It's on the south side." Anne Marie smiled and said "Yes, I know where that is." What she didn't tell him was that it was where she was staying. "How about we meet there around 6:30 pm? Would that work for you?" "That works fine. And if there's any reason you can't make it, just call my cell." They got to his truck and he reached in and handed her his card. "Here you go. I sure hope nothing happens to keep me from dinner. I'm really looking forward to getting to know you better. You left quite the impression on me you know." "You left an impression too. Now get going so you can come back!" "Think anyone's looking?" "I don't care." He took that as an invitation and gently kissed her lips. They looked into each others' eyes and again, there was a connection there. Anne Marie pushed him towards the open door. "Go. I'll see you tonight." Anne Marie got teased when she made it back to the office but she kept quiet. She was too busy thinking about her date that night to pay any attention to her co-workers. Fortunately, she was busy all day so it went by fast. Then, she had time for a quick work out and a shower. As she didn't quite have enough time to dry her long hair, she pulled it into a low pony tail and then focused on her make up and clothes. As she was in a hotel room, she didn't have all that much in terms of clothes but she did have a few cute blouses and picked one that showed a bit of cleavage. At 6:25, she got a text message from Paul stating that he was on his way and would be there in about 10 minutes. She made her way to the restaurant and met him there. She was pleased to see that he'd also cleaned up and shaved. They hugged and then were offered a table in the lounge instead of the restaurant, the hostess saying there were two families with young children in the restaurant and that in the lounge, they could watch the hockey games, it being playoff season. Anne Marie saw Paul's eyes light up at the mention of hockey and then, being a gentleman, he gave her the choice. Smiling, Anne Marie said "I love hockey, let's go to the lounge." Despite watching the hockey game, they still managed to talk and talk. They talked about their respective histories, their past relationships, their work and a bunch of other subjects. Both of them, without actually saying it, were impressed with just how much they had in common and how much of a connection they felt with each other. The advantage of being in the lounge was that they could stay and have a few drinks after dinner without feeling rushed to leave. By the time the later game was two thirds over, Anne Marie felt like they'd had three or four dates instead of just one. She got up and Paul teasingly asked "Where are you going?" Anne Marie leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Don't worry, I'll be back. I'm only going to the Ladies' room." When she walked out of the Ladies' room, Anne Marie was surprised to find Paul there in that small hallway. "There's something I need for you to understand." "What's that?" Anne Marie was now very curious as to what couldn't wait for her to return to the lounge. Paul leaned in and, gently pushing her against the wall, kissed her. As his tongue teased her lips open and made its way in, Anne Marie melted into the kiss. It was gentle yet demanding. With this kiss, he was telling her how much he wanted and desired her and that he wasn't going to let go without knowing that she understood that. She reached for his waist and ever so slightly pulled him in, showing him that she was in complete agreement. When he pulled away, Anne Marie teased "Even though I think I understood most of that, I think you might want to say it again, just for sure." "I'd love to but I think we might get thrown out if I kiss you out here again. Let's go watch the third period." They made their way back to their seats in the lounge. Anne Marie took the hoodie she'd brought with her in case it got cool and, without sitting, said in Paul's ear "I have a better idea. Why don't we go watch the third period in my room?" "You have a room here?" Smiling, Anne Marie nodded "Been here since the Monday after we first met!" Paul didn't hesitate and grabbed his own jacket and grabbing her hand, pulled her out of the lounge. They made their way to Anne Marie's room in silence, both smiling. As soon as they were inside, Paul again pushed Anne Marie against a wall and kissed her again. Anne Marie responded, her whole body on fire for this guy who'd been on her mind for over ten days. However, when they came up for air she asked "What about the game?" "Somehow, I don't care as much for hockey right now. You don't mind, do you?" "No complaints. And don't worry, I have protection." "Glad to hear it. Now can I take your hair down?" "Go right ahead." Paul took off her hair clip and set in on a night table. Then he ran his fingers through her hair. "Oh wow, I love damp hair. It feel so good and it smells so nice." All Anne Marie could do was moan slightly. As he resumed kissing her, Anne Marie could feel her knees buckle. She wanted this man more than she'd wanted any man before. Not wasting any time, she reached for his belt and pulled on it. Then, she spun them around so Paul was up against the wall. He was surprised but didn't say anything and allowed her to pull his pants down and sink to her knees in front of him. She pulled his boxers down and pushed up his shirt to see his rapidly hardening cock. With one hand, she grasped it and pointed it toward her mouth. As she planted her first kiss on his tip, she looked up at him and winked. Paul wrapped his hands in her hair and pulled her so his cock would bury itself into her waiting mouth. She moaned on his cock, turning him on even more. He gently set the pace and she greedily sucked, licked and nibbled at his hard cock. Her hands roamed, caressing his balls, his ass and his thighs. Then, one hand made its way under his shirt and teased one of his nipples. "Oh God, I've died and gone to Heaven." he said as he removed his shirt, allowing her better access. Anne Marie smiled and continued to please him, moaning her own pleasure. She felt him tighten up and slowed down. She stopped and, looking up, sweetly asked "Do you want to come this way or would you rather keep it for later?" "Baby, I can go again, don't worry. I'd really enjoy if you gave me this pleasure." Again, she winked at him and took him into her mouth as far as she could. She built him up again, caressing his nipple with one hand and playing with his sac with the other. She rubbed her tongue on his length as she moved in and out on his cock. When she heard his breathing get quick again, she increased her own pace and applied suction. That did it for him and he groaned his release as she took it all in. She slowed down her movements and made sure she got each and every drop from him and didn't let him go until he was limp again. He pulled her up to her feet and kissed her deeply. Then he said "That was amazing. Thank you." "You're welcome!" "I want to see what you have under that blouse. Been trying to sneak peeks all night but it was too dark in that lounge." Anne Marie smiled and started unbuttoning her blouse. "No, no. Allow me." He took over the job and deliberately took his time, savouring the moment. As he progressed, he gave her little kisses and teased her lips. When he was done with the buttons and pushed the blouse over her shoulders, he whistled softly. "Wow, that's nice." Anne Marie was glad she'd worn one of her nicer bras. She enjoyed his touch as he caressed her arms, the top of her breasts, her stomach and her back. She was amazed that he took the time to caress every part as most guys would have dived directly for the breasts. As he kissed her, he brought up his hands beneath her breasts and cupped them, teasing the nipples through the fabric with his thumbs. Her nipples hardened, rewarding his efforts and she moaned under his touch. He kissed her lips, kissed her neck, toyed with her earlobes, all the while inflaming her skin with his hands. He whispered "I'm not good with pants, would you take them off for me?" Before she could answer, he'd regained possession of her lips, showing her it was his turn to take control. She did as he asked and undid her pants and pushed them down, taking off socks and underwear all in one fluid movement. She then reached behind her and unhooked her bra. Paul took it away from her body and cupped her breasts again, his thumbs now teasing her nipples directly, skin on skin. He pulled her against him so he could feel her naked body against his as he continued to kiss her. They made their way to the bed and he pushed her down on it as he knelt on the floor between her legs. He kissed her knee and caressed her thighs. As his hands made it up the outside of her thighs, he gently pushed her down so he could access her core. Then, finding her too far, he pulled her towards him. Paul gave her one long lick and Anne Marie reacted by lifting her bottom off the bed and moaning. Encouraged, he used his hands to open up her petals and allow himself full access. He licked and flicked and sucked her clit, driving her nuts with pleasure. He didn't allow her any time to relax and pushed her towards her climax steadily. When he felt she was getting close, he slowed down and inserted one, then a second finger into her, causing her once again to lift her bottom clear off the bed. He increased the pressure on her clit and the speed of his fingers and she tightened around him, coming loudly. He then asked her where the condoms were and quickly put one on before plunging into her while she was still riding her orgasm. He knelt between her legs and pulled her legs up against his chest, plunging deep into her. "Oh My God, you weren't kidding when you said you said you'd recover! That feels so good!" "Oh woman, you are so tight!" "Yeah, fuck me, Paul, do me." He obliged her for a while and then pulled out. Anne Marie protested but he motioned for her to get on top. Smiling at the thought of having control again, Anne Marie quickly straddled him. But she was in for a surprise. He grabbed her hand and pinned them to her hips as he moved his own hips up and down at his own pace. Anne Marie opted to let him have control and enjoy the moment. Seeing her breasts bounce up and down was just too difficult to resist for Paul and soon, he let go of her wrists to play with her breasts. Anne Marie, enjoying the attention on her breasts, leaned forward, giving him better access with his lips and tongue. Paul took full advantage of the offer and sucked on one nipple and then the other, ensuring they both got equal attention. Then, he flipped her over and took her in the missionary position, kissing her, playing in her hair, playing with her nipples and plunging deep into her. Anne Marie wrapped her legs around his waist and then reached for his nipples, teasing them as he was teasing hers. Both of them were racing towards another orgasm, their breathing coming in short ragged breaths and their moans mixing. Anne Marie was the first to reach the ultimate goal and, letting go of his nipples, she dug her nails in his back as she came. Paul was right behind her, groaning. When they both caught their breaths, they just laid there, together. After Paul had gone to take off the condom, he came back and asked "Do you mind if I stay the night?" Anne Marie kissed him and said "There's no way I'd let you go anywhere tonight." They cuddled in bed and Paul asked "Think we can check on the game?" Their team had won, just like they had. They turned the tv off and Paul said "Good night Morning!" Anne Marie smiled and replied "Sweet dreams and see you in the morning, Night." * * * * * A/N: Thanks to Tellstory2jake for the nudge to get writing and the help!