Short Story

It was another long day just beginning. She turned on her computer and stirred her first cup of coffee.

She opened the files, Sandy made the sales, and Ben did the follow-up. All day, everyday. It was not exciting work but it was a job and in general, she was glad to have it. It paid for lots weekends at the spa and an annual two-week cruise. Alone. No one ever expected anything new in this job, and today was likely no exception.

So when the door opened and she heard the office manager's voice she did not see any reason to look away from her screen.

"And this is the sales department. Ben, Bridget and Sandy."

"Hi."

The office manager went on about computer needs but her attention was fixed on the other voice. The other familiar voice. Even after five years, she knew that voice. She listened to him describe the possible solutions to their system design problems as she slowly turned around. The first thing she noticed was what she always noticed first - red hair. It was what caught her attention when they met as kids and again in college and over and over.

She stood up and waited behind him. When he turned around, he stopped cold.

"Hello, Wilson."

"Bridget?" He was shocked. Then he smiled, "Bridget. Hi."

She grinned. She could not stop. "Are you free for lunch?"

The office manager started to answer but Wilson talked over her, "Yeah. What time?"

"12:30?" She was still grinning, remembering how much fun he was, how good she felt just being around him.

"I'll be here."

He let the office manager led him to the next department. She watched them go, waving as he glanced back before the door closed.

"Who was that?" Sandy virtually demanded.

"A very old friend." She sat down again, coffee forgotten. She stared at the screen not seeing anything but the past and him and summer camp where she first got kissed by a red-headed boy with freckles. She had hit him with her shoe back then.

In college, he had been the unexpected friend from home to laugh with, cry with, and lament every damn test, paper and group project with.

Five years ago, he was nearly The One. They had run into each other at a Starbucks downtown. They did dinner. And again the next night. And every night that week. Then came the night she knew she was going to sleep with him. She canceled dinner, afraid of ruining a lifetime friendship over one night of passion. And as happened so often, they lost touch with each other. Until today.

The morning crawled by and Bridget got nothing done. At 12:30, Wilson stepped into the door. She found herself grinning at him for a minute before she remembered to grab her purse and to clock out. In the lobby of her office building, he kissed her. She felt a thrill course through her body. He pulled back and looked at her feet.

"Just checking." He smiled.

"You remember that?"

"I'll never forget it."

She found herself blushing.

They walked down the block together. She could not resist taking his hand.

"How have you been?"

"Good. You?"

"Just fine."

They walked a little further.

"What do you want for lunch?" he asked.

"You."

He paused. Then he smiled. Then he lead the way to the nearest hotel.

At the desk, she got cold feet. She paused as she reached for the room key, "Tell me…tell me that this won't change us."

He stopped smiling, "I wouldn't promise you that even if I could."

From him, it was the right answer. She took the key, still not sure but knowing she wanted to be with him.

In the elevator, he ran his fingers through her locs and down her neck. She shivered. He stroked her neck as they walked down the hall to the room and she groaned softly. He kissed her neck as she unlocked the door.

Inside the room, she admired the beautiful oak furnishings for a moment. The 4-poster bed had a quilt that looked handmade. He came up behind her and stroked her arms, "Do you want to order room service?" he kissed the back of her neck.

"No. Do that again."

"What, this?" kissing, nibbling, "You like that?"

"Mmmm hmmm."

"I'd rather do this." He whispered between kisses and pulled the zipper on the back of her dress. She shivered and groaned, enraptured by the simple pleasure of his lips and fingers on her semi-exposed skin. Without removing her dress, he unhooked her bra and slipped his hands around her breasts. Another moan escaped her as his fingers teased her nipples taut.

She reached back and pulled his hips tight against herself, rubbing her ass against his growing erection, "Oooh," she cooed, "What do we have here?"

"A gift for later." He squeezed her nipples hard and she gasped as she felt the corresponding shock in her pussy. She pulled off her dress, bra, stockings and undies.

She stepped back from him and stroked her bare body, "Well? What do you think?"

He pursed his lips, "It will do in a pinch, I guess." He pulled her close again, covering her breasts with his lips and tongue. She had not actually expected a complement from him; his tongue and the steel pipe between his legs said far more about his opinion that his words. She unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. His pants slid down easily, his briefs did not.

She closed her eyes and let an orgasm flow over her. It was gentle and wonderful and promised to be the first of many. She grabbed his cock through the briefs and squeezed firmly. Stepping backward toward the bed. She giggled and he tried not to trip on his pants; he had to stop and strip. "Well?" he asked.

She studied him for a moment - really thinking about how good his tongue felt, "I don't see any obvious manufacturing defects," she paused, "of course, I haven't tested all the equipment yet."

He swept her up with a laugh and kissed her softly. She slid her fingers in his hair. Soft. Silky. His mouth tasted like coffee. His fingers stroked her back. His weight pushed her onto the bed. Then he began working moving down but she stopped him, "Ladies first."

He arched and eyebrow, half smiled and lay down, putting his hands behind his head, "Lay on McDuff."

She blushed at that; the line was a very old joke between them.

She used her fingers and lips to explore him. She traced his tattoos with the tongue, slowly working downward. Rubbing her soaking pussy against his rock hard cock every so often, taunting them both. Kissing his balls gently - finally - he rewarded her with a deep groan. She stroked his shaft lightly feeling the satin texture of his skin. Then she wrapped her lips around the base and glided up and around. In. Down. Shivering. Groaning. Faster. He tasted so good, felt so good in her mouth. Her neck ached before her jaw did. She paused, stretched it and sucked him again with renewed vigor. She felt ravenous. Wanton.

He arched his hips and held her head. She heard him gasp, felt his cock throb and release and she swallowed the jet stream of cum that followed. She let the second spurt coat her lips and chin and smeared it all over his still firm cock. Then she licked him clean again and smiled up at him. He pulled her up and licked his cum from her lips and cheeks and chin and points south.

He did not skip her breasts, per se but it was clear that his mind held other intentions. His kisses past her stomach were likewise sweet but fleeting. He ran his fingers through her pubic hair and briefly, she wished that she shaved on a regular basis. His fingers sent an anticipatory thrill up her spine and she twitched with excitement. He probed deeper, opening the thick lips of her labia and spreading her wetness liberally around her pussy. She squirmed some more, moaned some more, dripped some more.

His tongue touched her and she gasped. She quickly lost awareness of anything but his mouth and the amazing feelings he gave her. She lost count of the orgasms. Every time she thought he might be finished, his tongue or finger would hit a new spot and she shake and moan. Nothing mattered but his lips softly sucking her clit again. And again. And again.

Each time she came she thought, "Fuck me now." But his tongue inside her teasing forth more cum than she thought possible made it impossible for her to speak.

Finally, it was too much, almost painful and she pushed his head away instead of holding it against her throbbing slit. She lay for a few minutes trying to catch her breath and regain control of her legs before pulling his face to hers and licking her juices from his mouth as he had done before.

"Please say you wanna to fuck me." She whispered, sliding her legs apart.

"I want to fuck you," he answered, his erection pressed hard against her again, "Oh, God, I want to fuck you."

Bodies sliding. His on top. Her hand guiding his hardness into her wetness. "Oh, yeah. Ooooohh!"

He slid in and out slowly, taunting, teasing. She moaned, swore and felt her nails dig into his ass trying to pull him deeper, faster.

Suddenly he twisted and rolled, pulling her atop him. She grinned, adjusted her legs and picked up the pace. Leaning down to rub her clit against his pelvic bone, put her nipples in reach of his lips and he sucked them. She had trouble grinding her hips against him and keeping within reach of his lips when the next orgasm ripped through her. She wished she knew something sexier than, "Ohh, ohh, oohh!" She wished she could think beyond "Ohh, ohh, ohh!" much less say more. She collapsed against his chest, breathing hard. She could feel him moving beneath her, plowing into her hard.

She rolled sideways. The position was a bit awkward but he went in deep and she could feel another orgasm building again. She grabbed his ass again and squeezed, trying to make him cum when she did. She let go long enough to lift her leg over his shoulder and he fucked her hard. When she came, she did so loudly and heard as much as felt him come a few seconds later.

They lay together, panting and sweating. She could not move - would not have if she could. Eventually, sensation returned to her body and her legs and hips complained about their far-flung positions. She moved them with a groan, "God, I'm getting old."

"That would make two of us." He mumbled into her shoulder. He kissed it and wrapped his arms around her. She realized that she was not going back to the office today and stretched to reach the phone on the nightstand.

"Sandy? Yeah, I'm not going to make it back. I'm not sure; I think it was something I ate."

Thank you for reading the whole thing. If you want to send me feedback, go here please and thank you! (The box is bigger than it looks, really.) If you prefer to rate, send me a 1 (hated it) to 5 (loved it) and thanks!