
(c) Copyright Henrik Larsen 2004



Comments are very welcome. You can reach me either through assd or by e-mail at henlar@hotmail.com.


This story contains elements of explicit sexual nature. 

If, for some reason, you feel offended by erotic stories, then I don't know why you have opened this one. Maybe to be offended, so you can complain about how awful it is that somebody writes stuff like this. If that's the case, my advice is to seek professional help. You need it. If you are not allowed to read stories like this, I will not be held responsible, if you choose to continue. But don't worry; it's all fantasy.

A great thanks to Mat Twassel and Shae for editing the story.

 
Reposting or any other use of this story is strictly prohibited without the express, written permission of the author.




A Little Different.

Chapter 7.


Berlin was of contrasts more than anything. One day sunshine, the next thunder and rain; one part modern and being modernised, the other worn down and dilapidated. The only thing that was the same throughout our holiday was our relationship. We just took in the rest. The view from the TV-tower was fantastic. We could see all of Berlin, including our hotel. 

In the end we had to leave. The trip home was uneventful and we were tired when we came home. That night was the first and only night of our vacation we didn't make love. 

Vacation can be addictive. Getting up on Monday morning to go to work was hard. We both wanted to stay in bed, but the money had to come from somewhere and as things were, working was the only way. All that had happened at work before our vacation came back to me while I drank my coffee. I wondered what Dave and John, the guys from my group who had been sacked, were doing. Did I envy them? They could stay home and enjoy the fine summer weather. No, I didn't. I was sure they were desperately trying to find new jobs. They had to; there were mortgages to be paid, a family to support, and even though vacation was great, unemployment was something completely different. I can't recall who said it, but it was something about using our job to define our social role in society. Even if a person was provided for financially, he or she would still suffer from unemployment because of the loss of position in society. After all, one of the first things you say to a new person you meet is: "What do you do for a living?" 

I needn't worry about that. I had plenty to do at work. On top of the things I did before, I had a lot of new tasks and I did my best to keep up with everything. The many hours of overtime meant extra money every month, which was good, but no matter how many hours I put in it was impossible to get to the bottom of things and I was constantly behind. I did my best to explain to the customers that we were very busy and did our best, and the old customers were very understanding. I guess my youth helped me a little. Some of the older technicians had complaints from their customers and even though my new section leader was supporting us the best he could, he could not shield us completely from the pressure coming from above. For some strange reason the management found it difficult to understand why we couldn't do the work of the five fired guys on top of our own work. Maybe they really believed that the new computer system made us more effective, but it still did no such thing. 

Lisa was very understanding and listened to all my complaints. We had less time together and I was often pretty tired when I got home after a ten or twelve hour workday. We had to slow down our lovemaking, compared to the holidays, but only the quantity, not the quality. It was kind of ironic that it suddenly was I who was too tired or had a headache. What we did was great, though.

It came out of the blue, completely unexpected. It was a Tuesday night, we had gone to bed early and we had been making love for something like half an hour. I was on top of Lisa and everything was as it should be when my erection suddenly faded. It took seconds, literally. I don't think I had ever experienced an erection going down that fast. I thought I felt something and next thing I knew my cock was a flaccid as an over boiled carrot. 

"What happened," Lisa asked.  

"I don't know. It just ... happened."

"Let's cuddle a little. It will probably get up again," she said.

We lay for a while just kissing and touching each other, but nothing happened and in the end we decided to stop and go to sleep. It took a while before I fell asleep: despite my lack of erection I was still aroused and unsatisfied. 

I had read somewhere that it happened to a lot of men, and I told myself that everything would be back to normal tomorrow night. I loved Lisa, she was a very sexy girl, to me the sexiest girl in the world, and I could get an erection just thinking about her, only not that night. It was going to pass, no doubt about it.

Sure enough: the next morning I woke up with a perfect erection. It didn't really count because it was mainly brought on by the need to relieve myself in the morning, but during the day I have several erections thinking about Lisa and what I planned for us to do that night. It was hard to wait, but I had a call just as I was about to leave and had to help a customer with some adjustments over the phone. It was something that could have been fixed in five minutes, but it took over an hour. The customer had called one of my colleagues earlier that day, but he had never called back. Naturally, the customer was irritated and it made the conversation unpleasant. The customer held on to me until he was absolutely sure everything was OK, which meant that he wanted the machine up and running in production. I cursed my colleague but it couldn't kill my spirit. I was in a good mood when I drove home. 

We didn't talk about the little incident the night before; still both of us were in the mood for making love and we went to bed early. Lisa could feel my erection when I hugged her before going to the bathroom and it was there as I undressed, but when we began caressing I could feel it dwindle. 

There we were, all worked up, both of us. I hoped that she hadn't noticed and slipped down between her legs as quickly as possible. I loved to lick her and I was sure it would bring back what I had lost. I took my time, teasing her at first, only licking her inner lips, biting her outer lips gently, and penetrating her using my tongue as a miniature cock. When I finally began licking her clit she was about to go crazy and so was I. The plan was good in the sense that it made both of us very excited, but my cock was still soft. I could no longer hide the facts from Lisa. She put her hand around my cock and moved closer.

"What's the matter with you," she said, talking to my cock, not to me. "Do you want special attention before you wake up?" 

It was a rhetorical question and without hesitation she took my cock in her mouth; all of my cock. It had been a while since she had sucked my cock and I was beginning to miss it, so the sensation was wonderful, even in the state I was in. She sucked and licked me as good as ever, using her tongue to tease the sensitive rim of the head. She did it fast, did it slow; sucked the head only and took it all into her hot, wet and warm mouth. It felt as good as it would have done if my cock had been hard, but it remained soft. Eventually, Lisa gave up.

"Is something bothering you, Love?" she asked.

"No. I'm absolutely okay. You saw that it was functioning perfectly when I undressed. I don't know what's happening. Maybe I was subconsciously scared that it would happen and then it did."

"You don't have another girlfriend?"

"NO! Where on earth would I find the time to do that? I'm working my butt off when I'm not with you."

As soon as I had said it I realised that it was the worst possible excuse I had used. I mean, that is what the unfaithful husband always tells the wife in the movies: he has to work late.

"I mean, you call me every other day to ask when I get home. It would be pretty impossible for me to do anything," I desperately added.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way. I know you haven't got a lover. I was just trying to make a joke. Sorry."

Perhaps she was only joking, but it was impossible for me to be sure. A surging pain in my stomach replaced my excitement. How could I convince her that she was everything I desired on this earth when I was unable to prove it? 

"Perhaps we should just wait and not try so hard," Lisa suggested.

I didn't like her choice of words but apart from that I agreed. We went to sleep and the following evenings we did nothing. I still had an erection every time I thought of her and although I needed to prove to myself that I was still in working order, I didn't dare to masturbate.

A week went by. We still didn't talk about it. I was reassured daily that it was not a physical problem. I could even get an erection when I hugged and kissed Lisa. As long as we both were dressed I had no problems. In bed we did nothing except lie close and kiss goodnight. By the end of the week it was almost the only time my cock remained soft. 

On the eighth night we tried again. My cock was soft when we started but I was hoping that would change once we got going. I was hoping that Lisa would touch my cock but she didn't. She rarely did and it had meant nothing to me before. I got my pleasure from caressing her, making her feel good, not from her touching me. It had always been that way. I considered it to be good that she didn't touch me because I would last longer if my cock wasn't stimulated, but suddenly it mattered to me. The crazy thing was that I could not say it to her. The old embarrassment when it came to talking about sex was back with a vengeance.

We had gone to bed early and had plenty of time. Lisa was ready the moment I touched her breasts but I gave myself time to fully enjoy how wonderful her tits looked and felt. She let me do it and it didn't sound like it was a sacrifice for her. Her nipples were driving me crazy. The more I licked and sucked them, the harder and wilder I became. I wanted to take all of her lovely breast into my mouth, but it was impossible, I bit her nipples lightly and pulled them with my teeth.  

I was very aroused and my mind began to run wild. Even though Lisa certainly was aroused too, she was inhibited and quiet. I began to fantasize about her in a state of unrestrained ecstasy, me having to hold her down while I drove her crazy with my hands and tongue. I moved down between her legs and inhaled the strong scent of her excitement. I wanted to tease her until she would beg me to let her come and then I would do it over again. I found myself wanting to bite her tender flesh and pull it with my teeth. I wanted her so much.

I resigned to lick her like I always did, perhaps with more vigour than usual. In about two minutes she finally lost control and let out a high cry when her thighs tightened around my head. 

For a short while I had forgotten about my soft cock. Everything felt normal, perhaps even better than normal. I was excited like only Lisa could excite me and I wanted her so bad. I crawled up to her and it wasn't until I was lying between her legs that I realised that one important part of me was completely oblivious to the state of the rest of my body and mind. We lay as if we were having intercourse and I rubbed my soft cock against her pussy. I tried to think about something exciting and I thought I felt my cock grow a little as I thought of plunging hard into Lisa from behind while she was whimpering in orgasm. My mind drifted further and I tried to imagine how it would feel if I entered her other hole like they had done in the movie. It was as if it made my cock grow a little and it gave me new hope.

Lisa began moving with me; perhaps she had felt the slight hardening, perhaps my cock sliding between her slippery folds felt good for her, too. We moved as if we made love and I began to feel signs of an approaching orgasm. It made me feel even more confident.
 
I got closer and closer to orgasm and my cock was still flaccid. I thought I felt it hardening and rubbed harder and faster against Lisa.  I kept telling myself that it had to become hard, it just had to; still, nothing happened. I finally gave up. I couldn't fake an orgasm and I couldn't get one either. 

It was awkward afterwards. Neither of us knew what to say and we ended up not talking about it at all. I began to think about the fantasies I had while we made love. What would Lisa think about me if she knew I had fantasies about taking her in the butt? It took some time before I was able to fall asleep. 


 



Chapter 8.

Unlike my cock, the problem seemed to grow in my mind and this distraction was the last thing I needed at work. I was afraid to say the word. I wasn't impotent if I didn't say or think the word. Funny how one tries to deceived oneself. Not masturbating for a week had not done the trick so I tried to masturbate, if not for anything else then to keep my mind clear. Fantasies about Lisa, and what we could do if that vital part of my anatomy was fully operational, clouded my mind and made it difficult to concentrate. It did help a little but only relieved me from the excessive fantasies. I still thought a lot about my erection problem. 

I began to masturbate frequently, sometimes twice a day to get my mind off sex. We had more new customers than ever before and I felt the pressure. I was allocated to too many customers already and I'd heard rumours from the salespeople that they had landed a very large order, due to be delivered within a month or two. It was going to be our biggest deliverance ever and the most complicated. 

Normally, our customers had one product and needed labels for just that. The new order was from a company that labelled all kind of products for smaller companies who had limited resources for specialised equipment. This meant that the machines had to be reprogrammed and readjusted often, something we usually did, but this customer wanted a trained staff of their own to do it. The word was that someone from our department would have to train them on site. As it was I was already working ten to twelve hours most days, but the more I worked, the more work ended up on my desk. If we were to give up one more colleague, even if it was only for a month, the department would break down; at least I would, unless the company decided to hire a replacement, which was highly unlikely in the view of the resent lay-offs. The real irony was that the order was from a company in Asia, Singapore to be precise. That was where the pressure on our market share was supposedly coming from.  

I was too tired to make love when I got home and the few times we tried I failed, so we stopped trying. I was frustrated at work as well as privately and it showed. Lisa and I talked less and naturally we had little time to do things together. I began to worry that she was going to find somebody else. I could tell myself over and over again that she would never be unfaithful to me, but the thought was there in the back of my mind, ready to come to life when I was tired and frustrated. 

When the Singapore deal was announced, I was on the verge of breaking down. We were to send a man to Singapore for two months and there would be no replacement. I knew I would be unable to keep up the pace of work and something had to be done. On the way home I considered the possibilities. The delivery of the order for Singapore was due to start in a month, which meant that I would not have time to hand in my notice. Besides, I would have to find a new job right now and that was next to impossible. Then it occurred to me that whoever was going to go to Singapore would have to speak English and be fairly good at it. We were all able to speak English because the major part of our production was exported, but many of my colleagues, especially the older ones, were not exactly fluent. Many had kids and would be reluctant to leave for two months. In other words: I would be the perfect choice. I was good at English and had no kids. It was the solution to all my problems, relatively. My personal problem was still there, but I would not be confronted with it every evening.

Lisa already knew about the situation at work and she understood my plan when I explained it to her. The thought of being alone in the house for two months worried her, but she accepted it. Perhaps it was for the best to be apart for a while. All in all, the recent problems, both at work and at home, had put a strain on our relationship.

The following day I went to my section leader and applied for the job. He was reluctant to pass on my request, mumbling something about my lack of experience in training new people. I pointed out that I spoke English fluently, which was only a slight exaggeration, and that I generally was good at explaining things to the customers. He was still reluctant but gave me no reason. My world began to tumble. The idea of going away from it all for two months had given me some hope, but as he wavered and mumbled I became desperate. I got up and told him that if I was no good to the company I saw no reason to work my butt off every day and I might as well start looking for another job. 

I must have sounded convincing. He asked me to sit down again and apologised. I was certainly an asset to the company and that was the real reason why he was reluctant to let me take the Singapore job. His job was to make the day-to-day operations work and he was planning to send one of my colleagues who, in my chief's words, were "expendable". I was too valuable for him to send away for two months, because I seemed to get more work done than most of the others.   

I should have been pleased to hear it, but it made me furious. All the time I had been trying to get my work done he had just piled more and more on top. I asked him when he had planned to stop overloading me. He made some lame excuse about not having the time to follow our work closely, but he had to admit that he signed for all my overtime and that he did know I put in a lot of hours. My confidence grew to unprecedented heights and I decided to gamble. I gave him three options: He could send me to Singapore, he could relieve my workload and get me back to normal hours, or he could see me leave. Luckily he believed me and after thinking about it for moment he promised to let me go to Singapore. 

I was feeling better than I had for weeks when I left his office. The rest was a piece of cake and I left at normal office hours. Lisa was please to hear that I had got the assignment and laughed at my colourful depiction of the meeting with my chief. It was a relief for both of us. I hadn't thought about what was going to happen when the two months had passed, but subconsciously I was sure that things were going to change. 

It took a week before I was officially appointed to go to Singapore. I booked tickets for a flight three weeks later and I could hardly wait to go. I was still overloaded at work but now there was light at the end of the tunnel. My erection problem still remained to be solved. I knew consciously that there was nothing wrong with me and that I was fully capable of getting an erection. It was all in my mind and I had to stop worrying about it but that was easier said than done. 

I tried my best to convince myself that it was all in my mind. I really did everything possible not to think about it. I badly wanted to make love to Lisa before I left and we tried several times. Lisa took ages to climax no matter what I did. My problem affected her, and looking back it is obvious that this in turn aggravated my problem. A couple of times we simply stopped in the middle of it all and gave up. I was deeply frustrated and I assumed she was, too. After a period where she had gone from having one orgasm when we made love to have two or three, I was suddenly hardly able to satisfy her at all. 

My departure rapidly drew closer and the final details were falling into place. During my stay there were a couple of public holidays in Singapore and I wanted Lisa to come and visit me. Two months were a long time to be apart and I felt I deserved a little reward. I had continued to work long hours and used this as an argument to convince my manager that the company should pay for Lisa's plane ticket. He still had a bad conscience for allocating too much work for me and it was fairly easy to convince him. Lisa would be flying out to see me after four and a half weeks. In a way I suddenly looked forward not so much to the trip itself but to those four days Lisa would visit. It also made Lisa much happier about the whole arrangement.

As the day of departure came close it was hard for her to keep smiling. I was going to take the train to the airport, saving Lisa the tiresome three hours journey back from the airport alone, but the day before we decided that it was much easier if we took the car. It didn't help much: it was just as hard to say goodbye in the airport, as it would have been at the station. There were no tears but it was really hard to let go and say goodbye. 

In the end I had to go to the gate and we hugged each other closely for a long time. We both felt my throbbing erection and I really felt like taking Lisa to the restroom and making love to her. She couldn't help noticing and smiled. 

"See you in four weeks," she said and casually rushed her hand over the front of my trousers. "I love you. Promise to call me as soon as you land."

"I love you too. I'll call you as soon as I see a phone."

One last kiss and I was on my way on a fourteen hours plane trip to the Far East.  





Chapter 9.


The journey was completely uneventful and boring to say the least. Sitting fourteen hours in a plane was just about the most boring way I had ever spent my time. I found out that I'm not good at sleeping in a plane. First of all, I hate sleeping in an upright position. Second, the air was dry and I had to drink all the time. Third, I ended up next to a huge guy who did sleep and snored like a sawmill. I was pretty tired when we landed.

I called Lisa from the hotel. It was funny that she had just got out of bed while it was afternoon in Singapore. The time difference was going to make communication a little difficult. Although I was tired I knew it would be crazy to go to bed. I had to get used to Singapore time as fast as possible, so I went for a walk to look at the city. It was clean, as expected, considering the fines for littering. I was amazed at how green it was. Plants everywhere and apparently an army of people to water and weed the huge containers and borders. All in all, my first impression was good. 

Close to seven o'clock it suddenly went pitch dark. Coming from up north I'm used to a slow sunset and it came as a surprise. I headed back to the hotel. It was about time to get something to eat but I'd eaten plenty on the plane and settled for a sandwich, which I ate on the way back. 

Back at the hotel I went into the hotel bar. It was huge and almost empty. I could see a middle-aged man sitting at the counter, talking a barmaid, and two businessmen talking in the far end of the room. A band was setting up their equipment on the podium. I ordered a beer from the waitress. 

Sitting down alone with a beer made me realise how tired I really was, but it was half past eight and way too early to go to bed. Fortunately the band began to play and that helped me.

I have never cared much about Elvis, and Elvis impersonators are in my opinion comical at best, but usually a horrible nuisance. Statistics are great for a lot of things and I'm sure that statistically, Elvis should have been Chinese, but something must have made God, Buddha, Allah - make your own choice - change his mind. My guess was that God heard this bloke.   

Try to imagine a skinny Chinese guy, not an inch over five feet tall, dressed up as Elvis in the seventies when he was literally a big man. He wore the full attire, complete with white Las Vegas style suit and matching haircut. That alone could convince anybody that Elvis was never meant to be Chinese. 

Now, Elvis had a deep, smooth voice and imitating that when your voice is one or two octaves higher must be very difficult if not impossible. I'm sure he thought he sounded like Elvis; perhaps his mother or girlfriend could be fooled as well, but that was it. Add to this the fact that his Chinese accent made it virtually impossible to decide whether he was singing in English, Chinese or a third language. 

It was hilarious and at the same time unbearable to listen to. Since there were only four people in the bar he looked at me all the time and I had to concentrate very hard not to break down in tears, laughing. Still, he kept me awake for one and a half hours and two beers, but when the band stopped playing I was tired, really tired. I went to my room, took a shower and went to bed.  

It was quite relaxing only having to concentrate on one job and only for eight hours a day. On top of that I didn't have to worry about my other problem and that gave me time to think. I came to the conclusion that I was impotent, kind of; there was no reason trying to fool myself. Funny, but it sort of helped. The next question was what to do about it. With no pressure I had plenty of time to think things over. 

The big question was: why had I become impotent? I loved Lisa very much and the recent development in our relationship up to the time I became impotent, especially the sexual part of it, had made our relationship closer and sexually more exciting that ever before. Somehow it made no sense to me that it had happened and had happened at the time it did. Lisa was by all standards a very attractive woman and to me she was the sexiest thing ever to walk the earth. 

The obvious reason was stress. I'd been too tired and too concerned about the things that had happened at work but it still didn't explain everything. If it was just that, I should have been "cured" after I'd spoken to my manager and landed this assignment. There had to something else as well. 

The fear of it happening was the most plausible reason for my present condition. I thought about it as soon as Lisa took off her clothes, sometimes before we had got that far. Fear had to be the reason. The next big question was how to beat it? Even with my newly acquired acceptance of my problem and a possible understanding of the causes, I was still a long way from the cure. One possibility was the medical cure, the blue pills, but it didn't appeal to me. My impotence had no physical causes and subsequently a physical cure was not what I needed. 

Lisa was affected by my problem, too. It didn't take a scientist to work out that the reason it suddenly took so long for her to come had to do with my condition. Restoring my ability to get an erection was hopefully enough to get her back on track.  

All in all, my conclusion was that we had to work something out together. If only I'd reached that conclusion before I left. It was a bit difficult to work something out while I was here and she was back home. Talking about it would be difficult enough and I figured it would be even harder on the phone, so I decided to postpone the inevitable until she was here. Up until the last week before her visit we didn't talk about my problem at all.

Because we were seven hours apart we mainly talked on the weekends, but then we often talked for half an hour, sometimes an hour. I was glad the company paid the bill. Lisa was due to arrive on Thursday afternoon, it was Sunday and we talked like it was never going to be Thursday at all. In the middle of our conversation Lisa said that she missed me in bed at night. I replied that I probably wouldn't be of much use. She was quiet for a moment.

"I guess it's my fault, because I wanted to be ... more active," she said.

I was stunned. I simply could not understand how she could think that it was her fault.

"No! What on earth gave you that idea?"

"I read this article in Woman's Weekly and it said that some men were intimidated by women who were active, you know, sexually."

"On the contrary. I loved it. I think it's much more exciting that way."

"You do?" 

She sounded so relieved. I told her what I thought was the reason and that I thought it would be easier to talk about it once she was here. She agreed, but we kept talking about it for another fifteen minutes. It was as if she wanted to make sure that it had nothing to do with her and I reassured her. We touched on a couple of interesting things during that conversation. Among other things, Lisa suggested that I could tell her what I thought was exciting. I agreed on the condition that she would do the same. At the end of the conversation she told me not to worry. She'd apparently read a lot in that article and she had several ideas about how to cure my impotence. Now I was really looking forward to her visit. 

Time passed slowly the next four days. Singapore was a strange place, mainly because it was so orderly and in a way ordinary. It wasn't particularly Asian. It looked like any other big city with a lot of tall building. The main difference was that it was very green and very clean. 

I tried to learn more about Singapore: what it was like to live there and if everything really was as perfect as it appeared to be, but asking the people I worked with yielded few answers. They were reluctant to talk about it and changed the subject, always very politely, but it was impossible to get anything out of them. I was convinced that I just didn't know how to behave in this culture until I met Dave, a big Welsh guy, who had been in Singapore on and off for many years. When I told him about my futile inquiries he laughed. 

"No, it's not your way of asking. They just don't feel comfortable talking about it. It's not like it is at home, you know. Things are different here, politically. People here don't answer questions like that when a stranger asks. You never know in a country where you can be arrested and have your flat searched if somebody tells the police that you are smoking tax-free cigarettes. Political opposition is scarce here and the people in power know how to control it. It's all about money, my friend, all about money. This is a rich country, compared to the neighbour. If you want to have a good time and get away from all the rules and control, you go over the bridge to Malaysia Saturday night and get it all out of the system."

Dave was a great guy. We stayed at the same hotel and I had met him in the bar the first week. He could drink an awful lot of beer. I had tried to keep up with him one night and it had earned me a serious hangover the next day. Not that he drank that much every night, but he could drink a lot without getting drunk. It was nice to have company and he showed me a couple of good restaurants as well. He knew how to enjoy himself and I think he went over the bridge quite often.   

I had never even considered being unfaithful to Lisa, even though there were a lot of attractive young women around. One in particular caught my attention. She worked in the hotel and I saw her almost every day. She was less than five feet tall with long, black hair down to her waist. She had big, brown eyes, which seemed to have hypnotic power, making my knees weak when she looked up at me and smiled. Under different circumstances I would have been tempted to make a pass at her. Still, I had no control over my dreams and she featured frequently. I was embarrassed about dreaming of another woman but I could do nothing. I dreamt about her and the dreams were vivid and explicit. 

In my dreams she came to my room like Lady Goodiva. Her hair hid her body while she walked across the room. Just before she entered the bed she pulled her hair away and revealed herself to me, offering herself to me with the same eager way she offered me any practical service I needed from the hotel. The first time I dreamt about her I licked and sucked her clit, driving her from one orgasm to the next. I woke before anything else happened.  It made me wonder if Lisa got the same joy from sucking a man as I did licking her. 

The second time was more diverse. Again, I licked her but she begged me to fuck her. In my dreams I had no erection problem. My cock swelled more than it did in reality and I was about as big as the tiny Asian woman was able to handle. My dreams are like movies: only sound and vision. It would have been great if I had been able to feel, too, but then again; in the dream, everything was possible. 

She was on her hands and knees, urging me to take her from behind. Since Lisa and I had watched the movie in Berlin, anal sex had been on my mind from time to time. The more I thought about it, the more exciting and less revolting it became, but I had not dared to bring it up. In my dream I could just do it and I did. My cock stretched her back entrance, but just as I was going to give her everything the phone rang: It was my wakeup call.   

I had the same dream the following night, unfortunately again ending just before I entered her arse. It distracted me all day, but it was Lisa I thought of while I was awake and I wondered what her reaction would be if I suggested anal sex. Not that I was going to do it then; I still had my problem to fix before going any further, but I wanted to be honest with her about what excited me and the more I thought about it the more the thought of anal sex excited me. I knew it was a little more complicated then it was in my dream: when I was a child and was ill, my mother had use a rectal thermometer and she always put Vaseline on. Something similar was probably needed, but it could be overcome. I imagined Lisa on her hands and knees, her beautiful, heart shaped arse in front of me and my cock about to enter her. I was glad I was sitting behind a desk and not on the factory floor, inspecting the work. 

I could have used Dave's company those four days before Lisa's arrival, but he was off on business in Macao or Hong Kong. I had to fend the boredom and anxious expectations myself. Monday was dreadful, Tuesday a little better because I was very busy at work. Wednesday was great because I talked briefly with Lisa on the phone. Thursday was unbearable. The minutes passed like they were hours. I was sure my watch needed rewinding - yes - I use an old-fashioned watch - but the clock in the factory hall showed the same.

I was going to the airport at three o'clock. Normal working hours ended at five, but I often stayed on longer. It didn't matter much to me if I was in the hotel at half past five or half past eight. As a consequence we were ahead of schedule and the customer had noted it. When I asked if I could leave early to pick up Lisa at the airport, I was offered to take the day off, but I declined, knowing that it would be easier to pass the time if I had something to do other than walk up and down the floor in a hotel. I already had Monday off and with Friday being a public holiday of some sort we would have four days together.

The last hour felt like a year but in the end the clock on the wall as well as my watch showed that it was finally time to leave for the airport. The taxi came swiftly and I was at the airport in no time at all. The plane was on time and it was only a question of how fast Lisa could to get past immigration and get her luggage. Knowing her like I did I was sure she would have plenty of luggage for me to carry. Funny how you think about little things like that when you are all worked up and impatiently waiting. 


To be continued.



You can find more stories written by me at:
http://www.asstr.org/~henlar/ 
ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/henlar

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