...from Layne meant that I was going to be needing some action of my yesterday.

I had been concerned that I would have to operate my pocket rocket in the disabled toilet at work, but was spared the discomfort of having to do so (it is a great toy, but unfortunately a little noisy. I am already worried about redundancies coming in our company, I suppose "masturbating in the bathroom" would be a mark against me. Then again, this is a Swedish company, you never know what they will or will not approve of) as my lover sent me a message asking if we could meet up. So I grabbed my briefcase, my laptop, and bunked off work for the rest of the afternoon.

I drove home, anxious and full of anticipation. I haven't seen my lover for a while, so I knew that every moment passing before we would meet was a wasted moment, dripping with anticipation, regretting that a second slipped by, wasted and empty. I changed out of my suit, slipped on some shorts, and sat on the front steps, sipping my coffee, waiting.

Then he showed. He stood in front of the gate to my front yard, his face lit up. He came charging up the walkway, an enormous smile on his face, and in one movement opened his arms and grabbed me, kissing me deeply.

"Hello, Darling." he said, still smiling.
"Hello, You." I replied, instantly dismissing any petty grudges I had been holding against him. He can do that. I can forgive him anything upon seeing him, it seems.

Still kissing me, he half-carries, half-pulls me inside and takes me up the stairs. He lays me on the bed, and the wind plays with the curtains in the bedroom, turning them into drifting question marks. Fall is in the air, there is a crispness to the air that hadn't been there before, and it laces itself around our bodies as each part of us disrobes. The air massages my ankles, then my torso, and finally wraps around our bare backs as we continue to hold each other on the bed. He kisses me deeply, almost harshly, and holds my arms above my head to give him closer access, more control. I am a very dominant person in general, but when a man takes control in bed it drives me wild. I grind myself against him, hoping to feel him slide inside soon. That fabulous moment, the split second where suddenly you feel as though the ache inside of you has subsided, the tightness that you yearn for is complete. When a man slides into you, with excruciating slowness, there is nothing more fabulously rewarding than the moment you both feel he is as deeply buried inside of you as he can be.

But he doesn't do this. Instead, he slides down and buries his face between my legs. And. It. Is. HEAVEN. He does this magical move with his tongue that no other lover I have ever known is able to do. I orgasm within two minutes, and then he does it again. And again. Then he slides up and aims himself towards me. And the beautiful slide is started, he is incredibly hard and perfect inside of me, and even able to tease me for a bit, lurking only in the entrance, before completing the move into me and making me orgasm nearly at once. The weather outside begins to change, it grows balmly and hot, almost, as an approaching rainstorm makes the air stand still. Sweat stands out on our skin, and when I lean forward, I can lick droplets from the hollow of his throat and shoulders. We grow slippery against each other and inside of me.

We spend ages just moving inside of each other, fantasizing with each other, touching each other, allowing me to orgasm repeatedly, talking of wonderful, beautiful things, each of us just hoping to make the minutes last longer, since we never know when the next time we can meet is. I am captivated by his intense stare, the feel of his body against mine and inside of mine, and the sound of his voice, which will need to give me enough to live on for a little while longer without him.

When he finally comes, it is huge. A ragged gasp and much shuddering put to end a lovely afternoon. And as he orgasms, the rain starts, brushing the room with a gorgeous breeze. We exchange a few more words, a few more kisses, and then he goes.

As he walks away, he turns around. "You have no idea how hard it is to leave you."

Um...yes, I do. Actually. About as hard as it is for me to watch you go.

-H.

PS...yes, this was a Mitty-ism. Didn't happen yesterday. Well, ok it did happen yesterday, but only with self-relations acrobatics. My day yesterday was spent creating a presentation for an internal workshop. Sadly, few of us lead as exciting a life as Layne. But this is material enough for me to live on for a while. I am tempted to start a "Fantasy A Day" webpage-I am actually good at coming up with material for self-relations. Might be a business opportunity in there somewhere.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 09:13 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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