Flames

This was ridiculous - I felt like a teenager again! Jittery, excitable. Weeks of messaging back and forth, and I was finally here; meeting up again soon after all these years of lost contact. I was almost feeling sick with nerves. I had allowed myself plenty of time to get stuck in traffic, find the inn, and parking, and check in, and plenty of time to get ready. On any other day I would be late, as I usually am, but of course not today. Today everything had run like clockwork – the traffic was clear and the inn easy to find. I’d even managed to leave a few minutes earlier than I had planned. Absolutely unheard of for me! But all this punctuality has just left me with far too much time on my hands, to panic and build up my nerves.

Enough! I needed a drink to take the edge off.

Slipping out of my room, I popped downstairs to the pub, and took a seat on one of the barstools. I ordered a glass of prosecco, and looked around while I waited. The bar at the front had a relaxed feel to it – lots of comfy chairs, and dark wooden tables, with light coloured walls and bright prints decorating them. The pub actually looked quite a bit like the images on the website, which was almost a rare thing. I didn’t choose it. Chris had recommended it, when I said that I was happy to come closer over towards his neck of the woods. It was only a few miles away from where he lived, and it sounded like the food and ambience were both good. I paid for my prosecco and headed back up to the room, peaking into the restaurant at the back as I went. The dining area had slightly more muted lighting, but still a nice contemporary feel to it. It was exactly the type of place I would have gone for as well. When I looked at it on the website and noticed that it was also a small hotel, with just ten rooms above the pub, it just seemed ideal, and I had decided to stay the night too. I hadn’t mentioned that bit to Chris; I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. I just knew that I would want (or need!) a drink to steady my nerves, and it was too far to taxi. My son was seeing his girlfriend, as usual on a Saturday night, so there was really no need for me to rush back. This way I could get ready in uninterrupted peace, and have a lie in the next day with someone else making breakfast. This seems like I’m trying to justify my decision. Perhaps ignoring the deeper thought that is buzzing away deep inside me, something I can’t look directly at, for fear that it might go away. Or perhaps looking at it makes it too real.

Arriving back in my room, I sit down on the edge of the bed and take a long deep sip. My mother would call that a glug. A glug then, a big glug of prosecco, and as the bubbles fizz down my throat I begin to feel calmer, and let that warm feeling wash over me. I close my eyes and think back on how long it’s been since I last saw Chris. Twenty years or so? That’s a long time. Feels like a lifetime. As soon as my eyes close I see his face appearing in front of me – bright blue eyes sparkling, big cheeky grin, laughing at some joke that we shared. It’s always the same sort of image when I picture him, a carefree picture of youth.

We never slept together. Fooled around, certainly, but always friends first. Drinking buddies, enjoying each others company, and occasionally a little bit of fun at the end of an evening out. It suited us both. As has happened repeatedly in the last few weeks, I can feel my body responding to seeing him in my mind, and remembering the effect those eyes used to have on me. All those evenings that ended in nights of passion and heat. Thoughts of what could have been, and remembering that youthful lust that fuelled so much of our friendship. This wasn’t good, I was getting even more restless and distracted. I reached down between my legs, my clit aching to be touched, thoughts of Chris filling my head. Oh God, I wished it was his hands on me now! I longed to feel his touch on me again. I could feel the heat in me rising and my breathing becoming deep and concentrated. I pulled my dress off over my head, and threw it to one side. I reached for my little overnight case by the bed, and pulled out my bullet vibrator. Somehow I knew I might need this ahead of this evening. I turned it on, sinking back on the pillows, and pushed it down between my legs, quickly reaching the perfect spot. My body need barely any encouragement and the ripples of an orgasm shuddered through me quickly. But it wasn’t enough, it was frustratingly fast. I ran the bullet over my nipples and across my body, allowing my mind to picture him again, imagining it was his touch on me, grazing my skin. I could feel myself building again, getting hot between my legs, my clit aching again. When I thought I couldn’t take much more, I pushed the bullet back down, to reach the place that wanted it, needed it, the most. I could feel the shivery heat erupting through me as the full intensity of my orgasm took hold.

As my breathing started to steady again, I found I could think more clearly. Less preoccupied with all the fizzing sensations inside of me. That was exactly what I needed. I should have done it sooner. Oh crap! Now I was going to be late. How was I running early for so long, and yet now I was going to be late! So typical of me. I jumped up and sprinted to the bathroom to have a quick freshen up. I reapplied my lipgloss, dragged a brush through my hair (it had got slightly ruffled at the back!), tossed my bullet back in my case, and finally pulled my dress back on. Giving myself a quick once over in the mirror, I sincerely hoped Chris wouldn’t notice the flushed pink cheeks, as that was not something I’d want to explain. I downed the last of the prosecco, and raced out of the room.

I skipped down the stairs and just managed to stop myself from hurtling through the door – the teenager in me again. I paused at the door and took a breath and straightened up, and then stepped through into the front room.

There he was, standing at the bar, a pint being placed down in front of him by the bartender. I watched him a moment, as he kept glancing round to the front door, awaiting my arrival I assumed. Was that nerves? It was hard to tell, as he was facing slightly away from me. I walked forward and silently slipped in next to him at the bar while he was looking away, checking the front door once again, and as he looked back, he clocked me standing there, a big slow smile creeping across his face.

“Hello stranger” I said.

“Hello you” Chris replied.

And immediately, I was transported back in time. I was nineteen again and swimming in those azure eyes. He’d lost nothing of the cheeky twinkle. I could feel the warmth rising in my chest again. He leaned his face down and I lifted my chin to allow his lips to graze my cheek with a kiss, his hand slipping to the small of my back, his familiar but forgotten scent washing over me and giving me flashbacks to another time and place. I pulled back slightly and we locked gazes again, both smiling and perhaps a little too stunned to speak.

The bartender cleared his throat, and we turned to him. He was politely waiting for my order, and his eyes carried unspoken amusement at the greeting he had just witnessed, and sense of spark in the air.

“Prosecco, please”.

“Sure, coming right up.”

“We have a table booked, for dinner, so can you put it all on one tab?”

“Sure thing.”

We turned to survey the room; The bar was half full, but you could tell it was early and it was gearing up to be busy later, popular with locals. Leaving Chris to gather the drinks, I moved across the room towards a sofa with a low table by the window and settled back to watch Chris making his way across the bar now carrying both drinks. Now that I had some space, and the initial onslaught of feelings had calmed down, I could see him more clearly. He was looking good; older, for sure, but still lean, although, was that a hint of a paunch under that shirt? It was hard to tell for sure, but for some reason the thought of it comforted me a little, part of me reassured that we had both changed and aged in the intervening years. I knew, for sure, that I had. His previously dark hair was now more salt and pepper, as was the short stubble on his jaw. A thought popped up unbidden of that stubble grazing my skin and I found myself involuntarily blushing. I swallowed the thought down quickly and mentally shook myself together. He settled down next to me on the sofa and we turned towards each other, both clearly feeling a little self conscious. How could I break this? I wanted to fast track through all the awkward silences, straight to the bit where we were laughing together again. Only one thing for it – uncensored honesty. The words tumbled out of me unfiltered.

“How on earth are you still so gorgeous?!” The moment the words fell out of my mouth I gave myself a mental kicking. That was perhaps a little too direct. Pull yourself together, you idiot! “Fuck! I’m so sorry.”

He chuckled, and took the compliment, including my fumbled delivery, well, whilst looking an appealing combination of pleased, embarrassed and slightly bemused.

“That was really badly delivered.” I said, laughing at myself, “What I meant was that there is clearly some sort of Meryl Streep style potion, or portrait in the attic situation going on, so what do I need to know?”

“Yes, you probably need to be forewarned that I do a ritual sacrifice once a month.” He smiled “It involves candles and an incantation in Latin.”

“Ah, I see.” I replied. “Well, anything awful involved like virgin blood, or something I need to worry about?” I took a sip of my drink.

“No, nothing weird. Just a goat.”

I almost spluttered my prosecco, across the table. We both laughed.

“Too much?” He asked, smiling.

“No, not at all. I know plenty of mum friends who’d think nothing of sacrificing a goat once a month in the name of youthful beauty.”

Ice, well and truly broken then. We both relaxed a little. After a pause, he said.

“You too by the way.” And after clocking my puzzled look, he elaborated “You’re still just as gorgeous.”

“Ahh, sweet, but you took too long to say it, you see, so I’m not convinced. I’ll enjoy the lie though. Thank you.” I teased.

His eyes bored into mine, and he considered whether to respond. After a pause, he clearly decided to leave it for now, and I took a deep breath and broke away from his sexy stare. I picked up my drink and took another sip, as a way of busying myself. How could those cool blue eyes leave such scorch marks on my skin?

“You found the place ok, then?” He asked. Ahh, this was better, safer, territory.

“Yep, fine. Google maps.” I said tapping my temple.

He smiled again – that gorgeous lazy smile, that crept across his stubbled chin, and lit up the cheeky glint in his eyes. Man, how could I feel this way again, at my age, and after all these years?! I could feel the heat in my chest rising to spread across my cheeks. I felt flustered. I hardly knew this man sitting next to me, after so much time had passed, and yet my body was not saying the same thing. Despite everything, this man still provoked in me the same lust as when we were teenagers.

Clearing my throat to shake the feeling, and ignore my distracted brain, I asked him about his week. We’d been messaging for a little while, so I knew a few things that he was up to these days, but it was lovely to fill in the blanks in between. You couldn’t really get the details in short text messages, despite the volume we’d been sending back and forth. His work was clearly quite tough right now, and although he loved what he did, working in the NHS, he was struggling with it. It wasn’t surprising really. We talked about it for a bit, but you could tell it made him sad, so he changed the subject.

His face really came alive though when he mentioned his daughter, Sophie. It warmed my heart, and gave me complicated feelings in my body.

“Tell me about her.” I asked, keen to hear.

“She’s so great. She’s really wacky and mad. Loves putting together the oddest outfit combinations, and creating these crazy videos - she can do it for hours. She’s actually quite good at it too. She’s really into her gymnastics, and does aerial silk classes, where she can get into shapes and positions that I can’t even fathom.” He was smiling throughout, and I loved hearing him so enthused.

“Do you see her a lot?”

“Yeah, I do. I live really near them, so we share out having her after school and in the evenings. On the weekends it varies depending on our plans; sometimes she stays with me, sometimes I just see her briefly because she has plans with her mum. It works pretty well, and all things considered, I’m lucky, I know.”

“Yeah, it’s so often not that way. That’s great. I’m sure Sophie benefits from that too.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not plain sailing. But it’s easier now she’s a bit older and Michelle and I’ve been doing this a while.”

“How are things with Michelle?” I asked. He paused, debating how to respond. Ouch. Still a lot there. Ok, message received.

“Things are... fine. Mostly. We get along well, and spend time together comfortably with Sophie without any problems, which definitely makes things easier at Christmas and birthday. The arguments tend to revolve around Sophie, and when one of us doesn’t parent the way the other would. She’s got a new boyfriend, which is hard it itself anyway, but then she introduced him to Sophie way faster than I would like, so of course that caused an argument. But we try not to do it around Sophie. We’ve been known to have these horrible phonecalls around 9pm, where one of us – whoever has Sophie at the time – is almost whispering to avoid waking her up.” He laughed a dark laugh. “At least we are on the same page about that.” He shrugged.

“I’m really sorry. In an odd sort of way though, it does sound quite positive, try to hold onto that.”

He looked contemplative.

“So what about your son?” He said, changing the subject.

“Harry is great. But he’s also 17, so I’ve got a few years of experience on you yet, my friend, and trust me – 13/14 is no picnic! But he’s a good kid, and with everything he’s been through, he would have every right not to be. I count my blessings every day. The hormones raged for a while, but he’s more settled now, and we communicate better. We’ve always been close, but since he’s started driving and got a girlfriend, I have to respect his space more. It’s hard! Really hard!” I laughed. “But I’m doing my best. It’s hard not to want to keep him locked up at home with me.”

We chattered on for a while and the conversation flowed easily. I managed to suppress the feelings that were bubbling away underneath, being in such close proximity on this sofa, our knees touching. He proposed we get our next drink from the bar, on our way through to the restaurant in the back.

As the waitress led us to our table, Chris placed his hand on the small of my back, in an innocent guiding gesture as we navigated through the other tables. My skin responded with fire, my stomach with butterflies. I wasn’t sure that eating right now was such a good idea, but after two glasses of prosecco, and a third in my hand, it was far more dangerous to not eat anything.

The waitress handed us the menus, told us the specials, and then left us to it. I immediately couldn’t have told you what the specials were, as Chris’ presence was intensely distracting. I tried to focus on the menu, and consider the options available – what would be the least messy? Or the easiest to line my stomach? Risotto. Perfect. Breathe.

I looked up as he said “I forgot to even ask – are you driving? It’s too far for a cab, right? Sorry, I should have checked.”

“No, not at all” I replied, looking back at the menu, despite having already made my choice, avoiding holding his gaze “I was happy to come here. I, um, booked a room upstairs. So no taxi.” Why was I stumbling over this so much? I sounded guilty even to myself. He didn’t reply, and when I looked up again, he was watching at me with such deep intensity that I held my breath. After a pause, he simply nodded. I exhaled.

The waitress came back to take our order, and the intensity of the moment cleared.

The noise of general bar hubbub drifted through from the front. This place had quite the atmosphere, for a country village pub.

“Have you been here before a lot?” I asked.

“Yes, it’s only a couple of miles from home. Not my local but a nicer atmosphere, and also better during the day for families too. Lovely beer garden.”

“I love a beer garden on a hot Summer day. No better place. Favourite drink in a beer garden?”

“Hmm, tough choice, but probably a cider. You?”

“Spritzer, tall glass, lots of ice, lots of soda. Cider is a good shout though – why does cider taste so good on Summer days? I love it, but every time I drink it it brings back memories of a misspent youth.”

“And how did you spend your misspent youth?”

“Oh the usual, hanging out with friends in the local park after dark, with a 2 litre bottle of cider between us. Sharing a couple of cigarettes, but remembering to take chewing gum and perfume with us, as though that was going to do anything to hide the smell.” We laughed.

We started recalling places that were near where we lived when we were younger, and things we’d got up to there. We compared notes on old haunts, and places we used to go to, and gradually the conversation moved round to when we met. Sharing insights into what we remembered from those days, and if we knew anything of those mutual friends. He’d remained in casual contact with a couple of them, and I was on Facebook with a couple of others, but neither of us kept up with anyone else really. It was slightly dizzying remembering so many evenings of carefree drunken fun, and how often they’d ended with us getting together.

The dinner passed in an enjoyable smooth blur of laughter, delicious food, good wine and candlelight. At some point the lights were lowered, and the restaurant tables filled with other diners, but I couldn’t have told you exactly when. When the waitress finally came to ask us for the third time about coffees and desserts, I noticed that the busy room, had started to thin out again. Reluctant to let the evening end, and before my confidence could leave me, I said to Chris,

“Shall we take a glass of red wine up to my room?”

He held my gaze, said simply, and without hesitation “Yes.”

Relief flooded me as he had silently acknowledged where this evening was leading, and seemed to be in complete agreement. His hand dropped to the table, palm up, and I slipped my fingers between his. It was like a jolt of electricity shot up my arm. This man was reawakening sensations I thought dormant. As we waited for the wine to arrive, neither of us spoke. The laughter of the evening had stilled now, and we both felt it. The waitress returned with our wine and we paid up and left, taking the glasses with us. His hand returned to the small of my back again, and I shivered with anticipation. As we reached the bottom of the stairs I happened to glance back through the glass door to the bar, and caught the eye of the bartender who had served us earlier, and witnessed our loaded greeting. His eyebrow raised in recognition, as I turned back to climb the stairs, and a sly flicker of amusement crept through me.

Reaching the door of my room, Chris took the wine glass from my hand and I unlocked the door and stepped through. He placed the glasses on the bedside table, and turned back to me, stepping close as I leaned back against the closed door. His mouth fell on mine quickly, kissing with passion and lust, our mouths hungrily tasting every bit. Memories flooding back. We reached for each other; hands moving everywhere, as though trying to familiarise ourselves with every part, and make up for all those years of lost contact. His hands up my back, mine running through his hair, his lips on my neck, stubble grazing my skin, my hands on his chest, grabbing his jean-covered arse. It wasn’t enough. I fumbled for the buttons on his shirt, but I was clumsy with shivery passion, and so he undid them for me quickly. My hands slipped inside as soon as it was open, and I ran my fingers across his chest, and round to his back, up his spine. He shivered in response. God, he felt so good. It had been so long since I’d felt this way, I wanted him so much, I felt so alive with desire. I wanted to taste him, lick his skin, kiss him all over. I could feel him pressing into me, and my hands dropped to feel his hardness through his jeans. He gasped at the touch, and our eyes met in understanding, his hands now pressing against the door behind my head. I locked into his blue gaze, while slowly undoing his belt and trousers, and pushing them, and his boxers, down over his hips. I brought my hands back to him and, now freed from clothes, I grasped him firmly, he moaned, and I could tell his eyes were struggling to stay in focus. This feeling was intensely erotic. The power I felt was turning me on so much. I wanted him, and I wanted this more. I wanted him to feel the overwhelming lust I was feeling. I could see it in his eyes, and I wanted to take him to that edge. I dropped to my knees, and took him in my mouth. Greedy, savouring every delicious salty flavour of him, and loving the feeling of the power I had over him as his moans built up. It was getting to him too, and too quickly, I could sense that stillness that comes just moments before an orgasm hits, so I was ready for it, when he came, shuddered, crying out, grasping at my hair.

I waited a beat, and then stood, and left for the bathroom, closing the door behind me and giving myself a minute to recover.

Breathe. Just breathe.

That was wish fulfilment. In all the time that Chris and I used to fool around together, it was surprisingly chaste. Sexy, sure. Lustful, absolutely. A lot of kissing, touching, but not really taking anything too far. We were so young you see, only 19. Full of youthful enthusiasm but not much real world experience. So bringing myself back to now, where had that moment come from? It was purely carnal – I wanted it. It wasn’t about him. I wanted to taste him, to pleasure him. I felt the power, the raw passion that came from doing things on my terms. Recognising that I was older and more experienced now. The feeling was delicious. And slightly intoxicating. I wanted more.

I finished up in the bathroom, and returning to the bedroom I found him laying back on the bed. Jeans now discarded. Open shirt still laying loose around his sides. Boxers pulled back into place. He had his hands on his forehead, his fingers threaded through his hair, as though he was still trying to process.

Me too.

I walked to the bed, and stood between his knees.

“Man, I really wanted that.” I said smiling at him, my voice deep and husky, biting my bottom lip.

His hands fell away from his head, and he looked up at me. His eyes locked into mine, he sat up, and said

“You know what I really want?”

His focussed look of desire gave me shivers. He ran his hands up the sides of my legs, under my dress, all the way to the top and I shivered as he hooked his thumbs into the sides of my panties. Pausing for the longest, most delicious second, he pulled them down over my hips and let them fall to the floor. Running one hand up the inside of my legs now until he reached the warm, dark recesses of my sex. I gasped out loud, and my legs almost gave way, wanting him to touch me so much, and refusing to look away from his intense gaze. He knew what he was doing; his thumb found my clit and gently built up a rhythm that felt all too familiar. His other hand braced the small of my back, as I began to sway against him, allowing my head to fall back as my eyes lost focus, my body taking up a beat as old as time. The fire inside me now hotter than ever, he built in pressure and intensity, and my legs could stand up no more. I gently collapsed against him on the bed, murmuring his name. He pushed me onto my back, and kept the pressure up, dipping in and out of my wet sex, rubbing my clit until I was so close to the edge, I had no choice but to topple over as the ripples of orgasm rushed through me. I came into his hand with a shuddering release as I cried out.

“That.”

A while later, us both suitably sated, at least for now, we were leaning back against the headboard and sharing our red wine.

“When did you book the room?”

I looked sideways at him, and he has a small smile.

“Pretty much when we fixed a date. I debated it a bit, and how it might look to you, but I really wasn’t expecting any of this, I swear, I just wanted to be able to have a glass of wine without stressing, and get ready in peace.”

“Have I just walked into your trap?” He accused, jokingly.

“No, I promise”

We lapsed into silence again.

What I was thinking, but didn’t want to say, was that ever since we had got back in touch, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. He was plaguing my dreams, and I kept waking in the night, hot and restless. Thinking back to those carefree days in our youth, and longing to feel that fire again. But I had no idea if that was real of a shadow of a former fantasy, or whether there would still be a spark in the present. Until he hugged me at the bar downstairs earlier. And with one simple gesture, it hit me like a wrecking ball again. He was intoxicating to be around.

I took a sip of wine.

This was just an interval. Pausing to catch our breath, I think. I was still wearing my (now very crumpled) dress, and he was still in his shirt and boxers. I suddenly felt shy. Awkward to be seen with my clothes off, which was ridiculous after the last hour. It didn’t make any sense. He clearly desired me. Despite my age, and obvious physical signs of the intervening years, he didn’t care. His eyes told me all I needed to know; the lust I could see there didn’t care about my wrinkles, or stretch marks, or my loose skin. The lust was real despite all those things.

At least that’s what my brain was telling me. My heart was still hammering away in my chest as we chatted, telling me to delay the moment when I’d need to remove my dress completely in front of him. So far it had all been passion and fire and lust. Would he still desire me, and this body, post orgasm?

I could bear it no longer. I downed the last sip of wine, and stood.

“I’m going for a shower.”

He smiled, his slow sexy smile, and I turned and left for the bathroom before he could distract me further.

Once inside I ran the hot tap and started to steam up the room. I pulled my dress off over my head, and hooked it on the back of the door. I undid my bra and hooked that up too. I stepped under the steaming shower jet, and let the hot water run over my head and skin. I lathered up with a little shower gel, and cleaned myself. Breathing in the steam deeply, I took a few calming breaths. Over the noise of the shower, I hadn’t heard Chris come into the room, so I jumped about a foot in the air when he said

“Do you mind if I join you?” Seeing my reaction he quickly followed up with “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I can go.”

Swallowing a deep breath, trying to persuade my heart rate to return to normal, I said “No, honestly, it’s fine, I was ... just in a world of my own.”

He stepped into the water jet, and gave me a long deep kiss, the kind that makes you forget exactly what it what you were supposed to be doing. Breaking off, he tipped his head back under the water to wash his hair. I stepped out of his arms and grabbed a towel. One of those annoyingly short hotel towels that barely reach from boob to bum. Wrapping it round myself, I took a seat on the little shower stool that was situated at the further end of the shower cubicle. I sat and crossed my legs, and rested my chin on my hands and watched him enjoying the water. Completely unselfconscious of my gaze on him and his body. How do men do that? How can they be so carefree, when women are so often the opposite? Watching him lather up with the shower gel, he smiled back at me, knowing I was watching him, and unbothered nonetheless. He did look good. Yes, he wasn’t 19 anymore – his body was older, more rounded, the muscles softer. The hair on his chest was more pronounced and now had a smattering of grey. The tummy definitely had a paunch to it, especially when he was relaxed like this. His face was more tired – dark circles appearing where of course there used to be none. But despite all of this, my god he was delicious! I could still feeling my body stirring as I watched the water run down his long lean body, aching to be touched again by those fingers running through his wet hair. His blue eyes opened to look at me. He held my gaze, the atmosphere becoming heavy once again.

“Come here.” He said. Not really a request, almost an order. I felt instinct responding as I stood up and walked towards him. He unpeeled my towel and tossed it away, kissing me deeply as he did. My body was desperate to feel his touch once again, lust once more taking over all my senses. The deep kisses were leaving me breathless, I broke off for some air, while still being under the stream of hot water. I leaned back against the cool of the tiles, and the contrast made me shiver. From under the water his cool blue eyes appraised me, and far from seeming disappointed, I could see passion in his eyes, building. He leaned towards me again and began to kiss me across the top of my collarbone and chest. He kissed and licked his way down to my breasts and nipples, giving me another shiver, and he let out a tiny moan too. I was getting to him too. This wasn’t just one way, he was enjoying pleasuring me. The feeling was exquisite. He dipped down further and across my stomach – somewhere that normally I would have gone to great lengths to hide, but under this passion, I felt nothing but my desire building. I gasped as his hands once again found their way to all the right places, between my legs, and his mouth joined them there. Stepping my legs apart, he pressed in further, making me moan as I lost track of fingers, tongue and the cascading warm water, under a wave of sensations, and the cool tiles on my back. This had not really been my kind of thing before, but for some reason it felt good, and I felt free to relax into it. Maybe it was being in the shower. This was less frenzied than before, and my body was responding as though it was getting the worlds best massage. I curled my fingers through his hair, guiding him to let him know what was really working for me and my moaning increased involuntarily. I could feel myself building again, and I knew he could too, as he kept the rhythm up and then the stillness held me, before I finally let myself go and I cried out in release.

Breathing deeply, we both stood and he held me to his chest, under the water. We stayed like that for a moment, as our breathing returned to normal.

“I think I’m in danger of turning into a prune.” I said, stepping away gently and out of the shower, retrieving my towel from the floor as I went. Chris turned the shower off, and grabbed the other bath towel, while I started towel drying my hair off.

“Well, that was interesting.” I said, contemplative rather than accusatory.

He paused, looking at me for explanation. “What do you mean? You seemed to enjoy it. No?” Slightly worried.

“No, believe me, I absolutely did. I just don’t usually. I’ve never really been into oral sex before. I was happy with you taking the lead too, showing me something different. Something about being in the shower too, it was quite...” Struggling to find the right way to express the freedom feeling, I settled on “...delicious”.

He relaxed, seemingly reassured. “Ok, shower. Check.”

“You making a mental list for next time?” I teased.

“Hey, I’m just hoping for a next time!” He replied, smiling.

He pulled on one of the complimentary robes and slipped out of the bathroom, and left me considering that. In all my fantasies that I’d had over the last few weeks, I hadn’t really considered what I wanted to happen next. What did I want? Did I want a next time? Emphatically yes! The feelings I felt in the last few hours had made me feel more alive and sexy than I had done in years, and it was intoxicating and I desperately wanted another fix already. But there was something niggling at me and I couldn’t quite chase it down, or perhaps I didn’t want to. I always do this – find reasons to doubt and worry, far ahead. Stop it! Enjoy now for now. Worry about the future when it happens. For now, there was a gorgeous man in the next room, who seemed to actually find me attractive too, and to be as keen to see me again, as I was to see him. That was enough. That was plenty. That was amazing!

Shake it off.

I pulled on the other robe, and joined Chris in the bedroom. He was leaning back on the bed, and looked up as I came back in. I climbed onto the bed and over him to the other side, kissing him deeply as I went. Pulling back I looked into those crystal blue eyes that I could just swim in, and felt my chest warming again in an involuntarily response.

“Oh man, I can tell you’re going to be so dangerous for me.” I mumbled as I curled up next to him, burying my face into his chest.

He chuckled. “Should I ask what you mean?”

“Only that I struggle to think clearly around you. My responses are going crazy.”

He closed his eyes and leaned back. “Ditto.” He mumbled. But that couldn’t be true, could it? He must be having much more of an effect on me than I was on him, surely.

Silence fell as I contemplated this. After a few moments he said,

“Should I stay ...? I was going to catch a cab home... before. I just wanted to check what you wanted to do now...”

Uncertainty in his voice. I wanted to reassure him, but I also wanted to be alone. This evening had been so full on for me already, I wanted time to process. My body was craving his touch again already, but my brain wanted to think, which was almost impossible around Chris. Intuition told me he had to leave. This time, at least.

I looked round to him, and said quietly “I think I’d like to sleep alone –“

“Of course! Absolutely no problem, I just wanted to check –“ He interrupted me hurriedly, and made to move away.

“Slow down!” I said half sitting up to look at him straight on. “I’ve loved this evening. It has been amazing! I just need a bit of time of my own. Plus there is no way I’d get any sleep if you’re here.” I finished, teasing.

He didn’t seem convinced, but he took it nonetheless. I leaned over and gave him a long deep kiss, and after a moment I could feel him responding to me too, kissing me back passionately. He rolled me onto my back and lay on top of me, feeling the luxurious weight of a man pressing into my chest. I could stay like this for days, I thought. After a moment more, he pulled back quite abruptly, as if mentally prizing himself away from our embrace.

He sat up on the edge of the bed, facing away from me. Retrieving his trousers from the floor, he found his phone, and started unlocking and scrolling. “I’ll just order an Uber.”

“No rush. Promise” I said, but I could tell he wanted to go, the spell was broken. Swallowing hard I changed the subject, sitting up “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I have an early start,” he replied “I have Sophie for the day, so I tend to collect her early and make the most of the day.”

“Ah yes, of course, that makes sense. Well in which case you need a good nights sleep too then, at least what’s left of it. Looking after a 10 year old takes energy!” I joked, trying to make light of it. “Any plans?”

“Not yet. We tend to form a plan once we get together, depending on what she wants to do.”

I smiled. “Sounds lovely.” And I really meant it.

He was dressing now, pulling on his clothes quickly, and I could feel him slipping away from me. I’d hurt his feelings, I knew that, but what could I do? I had to prioritise my needs too.

I slid to the edge of the bed to sit next to him, as he pulled on his shoes. He checked his phone.

“2 minutes.” He said.

“That’s quick.”

“A fair few drivers around here. Not far from the city and on a weekend night there are lots of people going back and forth.”

We stood and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing the length of my body against his. Ok, if he wanted to leave it this way, then fine, but at least he could now this wasn’t coming from me. I gazed deeply into his eyes and pulled him into another deep kiss. After a moment he gave in and kissed me back hard, pressing his body into mine too. He let out a tiny moan, and then a small sigh, as he loosened his grip on me, and we both stepped apart a tiny fraction, breathless.

“I have to go.” He said, reluctantly. I nodded, and stepped away to allow him to pass. He opened the door and closed it softly behind him. I collapsed onto the bed, burying my face in the pile of pillows, almost screaming with silent frustration.

It was going to be a long night.