Safe

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A divorced woman breaks her rules.
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As is usual with many of my stories, if it's hardcore graphic detail you want -- move on to the next submission, This is about feelings, emotions, inner conflict. Also as usual, please give me feedback -- it's the only way I'll improve. If you don't like it -- tell me why. If you do like it, then tell me why as well. If you do read on -- thanks for making the effort!

++++++++

The second kiss was everything she knew it would be. There was a brief touch of tongues then he slowly moved away from her mouth, and softly kissed her cheek. She barely felt his touch as his hand eased her shoulder length hair out of the way and his breath caressed her neck and ears. Her head went back as she let out an involuntary moan.

Her brain screamed at her: This isn't supposed to happen! Stop him!

He nibbled, licked and kissed her neck, then taking what seemed liked hours, he moved back to the softest lips he could remember. She exhaled and those same lips parted as her mouth sank onto his.

Brain to Lara! Brain to Lara! Remember what we agreed? Nothing physical. Just good friends.

Oh fuck! Why did you let him touch your neck?

Ah well, in for a penny. If he's as good at pressing the buttons as he seems to be ... I know where this will end up.

With all the racket shouting at her in her head, Lara was amazed she could concentrate on what he was doing to her.

Oh Christ! Not the other ear! Oh Goooooood!

She managed a whisper:

"Do you know what you're doing to me?"

His hands moved up to cradle her face; his grey-green eyes locked on hers. His answer was his crooked grin and those smiling eyes.

Oh fuck! He knows EXACTLY what he's doing!

It took every ounce of her will, but Lara took a deep breath, moved her hands to his shoulder and gently pushed. Her lips were slightly parted as her rapid breathing slowly came under control. She stared into his eyes:

"I'm breaking every single rule I have ..."

He said nothing, but his eyes were no longer laughing at her. They just smiled, knowing. Understanding the turmoil inside her. She swallowed and whispered:

"But would you like to come inside? For coffee ... or something?"

His whole face beamed the answer.

She fished her key from her handbag and turned to unlock the door. His arms enveloped her waist from behind. He did that thing again with his hands and her hair. All he did was breathe on her neck. She felt like her knees were refusing to support her anymore. She threw her head back onto his shoulder, offering him full access to her neck. His mouth moved round and his arms moved up to cup her breasts.

Oh my fucking God! That's so not fair!

She let out another moan as his fingers sought her nipples through the flimsy material of her top, and her bra.

"Oh you bastard!"

She twirled round. Looked him in the eye, grabbed his shirt near the top button and pulled his lips to hers. The kiss was hunger. Frenzy.

Lara pulled away again, her eyes shone in the light from the streetlamp outside her house. They were amber flames.

"Inside! Now!"

As she pushed the door open, her mind went back.

A week? Was it really only last Friday? How the fuck did I let this happen?

xxXXxx

"Lara, this is Keith. Keith, this is my best friend, Lara -- you'll be safe with her."

Keith thanked Sally, and turned to Lara:

"Pleased to meet you." He held out his hand. She took it and didn't let go for a few milliseconds longer than was normal. He just let his hand slide away from hers -- almost as if he were stroking it.

Well, well, well, this might not be a totally wasted evening after all!

The cocktail party, celebrating the opening of some photography exhibition or other, had been rather dull for Lara up to that point. But Keith looked interesting ... a bit old maybe, but her surreptitious look up and down his body showed he was in pretty decent shape (tick). And he had two gorgeous eyes (tick).

"So Keith, what do you do? Apart from drink free Champagne?"

He waved his hand dismissively.

"Oh the usual dull business stuff. But my pastime is writing. Maybe one day it'll bring me enough income that I can quit my day job."

Brain to Lara! Brain to Lara! That's another tick -- you missed it! Oh, and close your mouth.

She was just about to launch into the thousand questions that had started up in her brain, when she stopped herself, a thought nagging at her:

"Sal said you'd be safe with me. Why do you need to be safe?"

Keith smiled and shrugged:

"Oh that's Sally. She promised Kate, my wife, that she wouldn't let me fall into the clutches of any single women. Kate seems to think women might be attracted to me. Don't buy it myself, but I guess I fooled her into liking me I suppose."

Lara mentally scrubbed out the ticks and hoped the disappointment didn't show in her face.

Ah well -- he's probably crap in bed!

"So Keith, why's your wife not here?"

"Oh she had to work." Once again, that dismissive wave of his arm. "But what do you do?"

Lara told him about her job, as quickly and boringly as she could, and started on the writing questions.

It was almost two hours later when they realised the place had almost emptied.

Where the hell did that time go?

"Look, I dominated you with my boring conversation all evening. Can I give you a lift home to thank you?"

Lara smiled. Why do I feel like I've known him years?

"That would be very nice. And it was far from boring."

They found Sally and thanked her. She smiled:

"I knew you'd come to no harm with Lara."

As they left, Keith asked Lara what Sally meant by that.

"Oh that's easy. I have a reputation. A strict code. 'No married men'."

She turned and her lips curled into a smile:

"I had one once, but I divorced him." (A wink)

Nice touch - that wink. You didn't mention the "no older men" either -- but yeah, don't tell him that! That would not be cool.

The smile, his nod and the "Aaah, I see!" said it all.

They talked more as he weaved his way along the Surrey roads, following her directions, until they got to her house. He walked her to the door, noticing the light on inside and some movement. He looked at her with a frown.

"Babysitter. Thank you for a ... really nice evening."

Then came that kiss. The first. It was no more than a peck on the cheek. Given the seismic effect of that, Lara should not have been surprised by the follow up, a week later ....

But the first follow up had occurred on the following Monday. Lara's first day off in the half term holiday was being spent getting her lesson plans out of the way. She was prepping for her GCSE class and the struggle (for them) that was King Lear. Lara absolutely loved the story of the ageing King, and she wanted to inspire her class. She was wondering about getting them "into it" more when his email arrived.

+++++++

From: Keith Ingram

To: Lara Morton

Subject: Thank you (again)

Hi

Hope you don't mind. I got your email address from Sally. Just wanted to say again how much I enjoyed your our conversation on Friday. It turned a dull evening into a very, very pleasant one. You are very good company. Thanks again.

Well, if you have any free time and fancy coffee or a walk or something to continue the chat, you can now get hold of me.

Keith

+++++++

Danger Will Robinson! Achtung! Mayday! Don't do it Lara! Just don't! Remember Rule 1 ... AND Rule 2 for fuck's sake!

Her hand was on her mouse and the pointer was on the REPLY button. The conflict in her head was raging.

"Oh what the hell (click) it's only coffee."

Oh great! With one tiny movement of your right index finger, you've doomed us!

Lara's plan for the next day was to meet Keith mid afternoon, have a coffee and some more banter and chat for half an hour, leaving her a couple of hours for retail therapy. She didn't do any shopping. After two and a half hours of talking, giggling like a teenager and just looking at Keith's smiling eyes as they discussed favourite books, Lara realised that she was late for picking up her two daughters.

Hastily grabbing her bag and sliding her sunglasses into position from the top of her head, she apologised for dashing off. And with a hug and a promise to email him, she dashed out, leaving him wondering what the hell just happened.

As Lara pulled up outside their friends' house, she could see the children in the back garden. The realisation hit her; she'd driven there completely on autopilot. She couldn't recall a single thing about the drive -- her mind was full of Keith Ingram - his smile, his quick wit, his humourous banter -- but most of all his eyes. And the electricity she'd felt as his hand touched her arm or hand to emphasise a point.

Okay girl, put those thoughts and those touches on the back burner. Time to be "mum".

Lara didn't see Keith on Wednesday or Thursday. Instead they swapped approaching a hundred emails. Some long, some just a single word. Every one just cementing their friendship with witty comments, questions about each other -- music, favourite films, holidays -- everything under the sun ... well, almost everything. Then on Friday morning, the inevitable email arrived:

+++++++

From: Keith Ingram

To: Lara Morton

Subject: Tonight

Dinner?

Keith

+++++++

Lara replied in an instant:

"What do you think? Pick me up at 7:30"

Then she added: "The girls are at their dad's this weekend"

Lara looked at it for full minute, finger hovering over the mouse button to send it.

Oh come on! Remember your rules. You might as well have said -- Hey, pack your toothbrush! Slut! Just friends -- remember!

She hit the delete key and the last sentence disappeared.

He arrived on the dot at 7:30.

OMG the bastard has brought flowers!

Dinner ... conversation, eye contact, touching hands, sparks.

The doorstep. The second kiss, passion, lust, desire.

Once inside Keith turned Lara round and pressed her against the wall. He searched the depths of her eyes as his right hand stroked the errant locks of her hair from her face. The kiss was tenderness itself. As his lips moved to her neck, his hand pushed the thin strap of her dress over her shoulder. He kissed her shoulder and arm, moving an inch at a time. Lara's head was back and her eyes shut tight, as her breathing got heavier and heavier.

As he moved his mouth back onto hers the kissing was hard, intense and his other hand slipped off the other strap. Lara let out a half sigh, half moan. She pushed him away gently and the top of her dress slipped to her waist.

"If we're going to do this, if I'm going to break my rules ... then I'm going to it in comfort. Lara grabbed Keith's shirt collar and towed him up the stairs.

It wasn't so much the late May sunshine streaming through the crack in the curtains that woke Lara, as much as the realisation that her head was lying on something that wasn't a pillow. Keith's steady breathing made her realise that the feeling of closeness, warmth (and love?) in bed in the morning was something she really missed. The strong smell of sex, the bedclothes all over everywhere, Keith's lean, naked body half exposed ... the memory of his touch, the way he stroked her skin making the little hairs stand on end. Her mind remembered every detail. The way he kissed her -- lips, neck, ears, nipples, her tummy and ...

Oh my God, he was so fucking good at that!

By the time he'd finished she was screaming for him to be inside her. The memory of how that felt took her breath away. She'd thought he was good, but the truth was THEY were good. The friendship and closeness that had grown in the short week they'd known each other had led to the most explosive, intense, fulfilling, addictive couple of hours of sex she could remember.

So much for just good friends! Actually that's the problem -- we ARE good friends.

She turned to check the time.

"Oh fuck!"

She turned back to look at Keith, who still hadn't moved.

Well that's not a bad thing! You can go to the bathroom, shower, brush your teeth and look presentable when he wakes up. Then you can leave him to sort himself out while you get the girls.

A while later, she had a towel wrapped round herself and was sorting out her hair when, despite the fact she had her back to him, she realised he was watching her from the bed. Looking in the mirror she smiled:

"Morning sleepy head!"

"You're getting dressed. I was rather hoping ..." he let the sentence fade.

"There are two good reasons why that log you have between your legs is not coming anywhere near me. First, I have to collect my daughters from their dad's place in ... err ... thirty two minutes. Then I have to get them to their football training. Now I could come back then and ... we could erm ... you know, do as you suggest. But then there's the second reason. I don't think I'm going to able to walk for a bloody week -- so, no I don't think that's going to happen. Besides, aren't you supposed to playing golf with Sally's better half?"

"I could call Peter, and tell him the situation ... some more time with you is more appealing."

"Yeah, yeah! You only want me for sex. You come on all friendly and intellectual and then once you've got me between the sheets that's all you think about."

"Do you mean that?" He actually looked hurt.

"The thought had occurred."

"No, look at you. You're clever, intelligent, funny, sparky, sensible - sometimes. You're good looking, actually very good looking, sexy, sensual. And what you can do with your mouth is ... exceptional."

"See! Back to sex!"

As they were talking she was pulling on her clothes. Then she turned and walked over to the bed, and picked up his hands.

"Thank you for a truly wonderful night. You're amazing." She bent down and kissed him. Then abruptly she stopped and moved away.

"There's coffee, juice, bread, everything downstairs. Help yourself. I'm late, and have to go."

"Where's the switch?"

Her brow wrinkled in a questioning look.

"The switch that turns you from wild lover to soccer mum. You just flicked it. Remarkable. See you are sensible ... sometimes."

She picked up a pillow and beat him round the head.

"You wait 'til next time."

Then she turned and went.

So you reckon there'll be a next time? Don't count on it babe. He got you hooked, reeled you in and had his fun. The end.

Well, if that's the case, it was definitely fun.

The girls had been delivered to football, and Lara went into the coffee shop. She lifted the sunglasses onto the top of her head, so she could pick out Sally in the darker room. Her friend was reading a newspaper over in the comfy chairs, in what they'd christened "their corner". Lara smiled, walked over and they hugged and set about their usual Saturday morning girlie chat. After a few minutes Sally asked if Keith had got in touch, because he'd asked for Lara's email.

Lara looked down to pick up her coffee, and as casually as she could muster, she said yes he had.

Well that lack of eye contact, coupled with the fact your face is the same colour as a Ferrari certainly gave nothing away!

Sally looked at her, not saying anything.

"Do you like that woman's handbag?" Lara's vain attempt at subject changing was never going to work.

"Spill," was all Sally said.

A sigh:

"Yes, we went out to dinner last night."

Silence. A stern look. More piercing eyes.

"Oh fuck, you did, didn't you? You broke your bloody rules."

Lara just smiled, relieved she could tell her best friend.

"He is, no we were, amazing. It was so bloody hot. You have no idea."

Sally just shook her head, raised her eyebrows, and then laughed. She hugged her friend and whispered in her ear:

"Well, at least it sounds like it was worth breaking the rules for."

Lara nodded, then said:

"Look, I've asked him loads of times about his wife, Kate, but he just avoids answering. Just shrugs, and says some one word answers and then diverts me. What's the story? What does she do that she's away all the time?"

To this day, Lara swears that she heard a thunk as Sally's jaw hit the table.

"What?" was all Lara could say as her friend just stared at her. "What's the matter?"

"Oh ... my ... God. You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"You have no idea who Kate is, do you?"

Lara just shook her head. Sally picked up the paper she'd been reading and flicked to the Showbiz gossip pages. She lay the paper on the table in front of Lara and pointed to the photo. It was a typical Hollywood red carpet photo -- woman in a spectacularly expensive, very revealing evening gown and a man in a tuxedo. The caption read:

"On the red carpet for their latest blockbuster, Kate Stopford and co-star ..."

Lara didn't read any more. It was her jaw's turn to hit the table.

"Keith's married to Kate Stopford? The face of Olay or L'Oreal or whatever. One of the most beautiful women in the whole fucking world. Wasn't she voted FHM's sexiest forty year old or something?"

"Actually, it was sexiest MILF. But let's not go there."

"Well, that answers a lot. He came on all friendly and chatty -- and all he wanted all along was a fuck because his stunning wife wasn't around. I should have bloody known. What could he possibly see in me, when he goes home to MILF of the fucking year, or whatever she is? And he is the envy of half the men in the world -- and probably some women too."

Sally reached over and touched her arm:

"Sorry hun. Look, at least you had some great sex -- do you think you could get him to give Pete some hints."

The women looked at each other, and both started laughing. Lara looked at her friend:

"Yeah, like he's really going to call me. By the way, have you read any of his stuff?"

"No, he told me Kate said that it was rubbish. Well, I think she said 'mediocre'."

"It's a bit rough round the edges -- but it's good. I'd even say very good. I'd certainly pay to read it."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Wonder why she puts it down?"

They talked on until it was time to collect their kids. As they walked out of the shop, Sally shook her head.

"Not sure which I can't believe most. That you broke your rules, or that you didn't know whose husband you'd shagged!"

Sometime after nine that evening Lara was casually flicking channels while cradling a glass of red. The house phone rang, and she thought twice about answering it as she didn't recognise the number.

"Hi. It's me. I noted your landline number this morning. I just ..."

Lara cut him off:

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Silence. Then a sigh, and:

"I didn't tell you because it was irrelevant. The only relevant thing is how I felt about you. I just loved talking to you, and being with you. I knew that if you knew who Kate was, you'd freak out. You'd think 'why would he want me when he's got her?' Right? And then it would all change. And I don't want it to change. Last night was so, so special."

"Yes, it was. Look I need some time to think."

"Okay -- but it's not just explosive, mindblowing sex you know. It's the whole package. It's you, gorgeous, funny, witty Lara Morton. It's you."

The line whined as he hung up at his end.

And on that bombshell! Oh shit. Why is life so bloody complicated?

The first day back hadn't been too bad. The year 11 class had loved her innovative approach to King Lear. They really seemed to get it. Mug of tea in hand, Lara was just about to catch up with last Friday's "Graham Norton Show" -- and her mind went back to what had stopped her watching it at the time. She smiled inwardly, reliving Keith's touch, his breath on her neck, his tongue on her ...

12