The Last Straw

Another flash of lightning outside drew Sarah out of her reverie. She didn't have to wait long for the inevitable crash of thunder. As she suspected the storm was drawing nearer. It seemed to be growing stronger as well. By the time she got home she would be in the middle of it, and it would very likely be at its peak as well.

It was fitting. The rain and the thunder fitted her mood perfectly. When she arrived home she would unleash the fury of her own storm. If he was even there. Stood up on Valentine's Day. By her husband, no less.

"Sorry darling," his message read, "I'm stuck at work and running late. I'll be with you soon."

It was hours since she'd received that message and there was still no sign of him. How long had it been since the last time they had had a romantic evening together? She couldn't remember, it was that long ago. She didn't ask for much, one night. Just one night a year. But he couldn't even schedule her in for one night.

It was the worst night of the year to be alone in a restaurant. Watching all of the happy couples fed her fury. Seeing the looks in their eyes as they gazed at one another across the tables was enough to make her puke. Sarah wanted to be one of those couples, desperately. As it was she sat in the restaurant alone, humiliated and embarrassed.

The waiter was sweet to her. He'd brought her little nibbles from the tasting menu now and then. He was always cheerful, always had a smile for her. As hard as he was trying to make her feel better, it almost made it worse. She was exposed and all the world could see what a sham her marriage had become.

Lightning lit the room again and the lights went out. Moments later there was a crash in the kitchen, followed by hysterical laughter. The lights came up again as thunder rolled overhead.

Just like that she made her decision. It was over. Like a flash of lightning the conviction struck her. She couldn't live like this anymore, she needed her husband to be... what? Her husband! Damn it, she needed her husband to be with her.

"Can I get the bill, please," she said as the waiter went past.

"Of course," he replied, a sympathetic look on his face. Another damned sympathetic look.

The waiter returned moments later with the bill. As he handed it to her, he said, "I am so sorry your husband is not here. But if you wait just a little longer, maybe you could come dancing with me instead? My shift ends in twenty minutes. What do you say?"

"That's very kind, I'm sure your heart's in the right place, but I really don't need your pity."

"It's not pity. Any man would be thrilled to dance with you, I know I would. Take a chance, have a little fun, god knows you've earned it tonight."

She almost smiled, "Thank you, you're very sweet, but I don't think I'm in the mood anymore."

"Alright, but if you change your mind, let me know. The offer's still open."

Sarah watched him as he walked away. She remembered what it was like to be young and spontaneous. Years ago she would have taken him up on the offer, just dropped her plans on a whim, and gone dancing. Not anymore though.

She watched the storm for a few minutes more, savouring the memory of the waiter's invitation. She realized suddenly that she wasn't old, not even thirty yet, not for a few months more anyway. She hadn't grown old, she had grown boring. Her husband's work had aged them both prematurely. His obsession with appearances had made them both dull.

"Excuse me," she called out.

The waiter heard her from across the dining room, he turned and left the people he was serving, leaving them looking surprised, and more than a little miffed.

"What can I do for you, ma'am?" he asked, with a smile that showed genuine happiness. "Have you changed your mind?"

Sarah was completely disarmed by his charming grin. He beamed at her, and his smile was infectious. She couldn't stop herself from smiling as she said, "Well, you can stop calling me ma'am for one thing, my name's Sarah. And yes, I have changed my mind, I'd love to go dancing with you."

"Well, Sarah, I'm pleased to meet you, and I'll be very happy to take you dancing. My name's Tim by the way."

"I think you should serve that couple. I wouldn't want you to get fired."

Tim's smile had continued to grow, and now it looked like his face might crack open. He looked back at the couple he had left so abruptly. "Oh, they look pissed don't they? Excuse me."

He returned moments later with a small glass of wine. "My treat, it's a sweet little dessert wine. I hope you like it."

Later, he returned. Sarah almost didn't recognise him – he had changed his clothes. A nice shirt, much more colourful, more stylish, than her husband would wear, and the matching pants were tighter than her husband would wear as well. He had a cute arse. Pinchable, she thought, with an internal giggle. Maybe she was a little tipsy after the dessert wine. Not to mention the bottle of champagne she had had to drink all on her own.

"Let's go," he said, offering his hand to her.

She accepted his hand, and his chivalrous assistance in getting out of her chair. She noticed he kept hold of her hand as they walked out of the restaurant. She liked the feeling, it was nice to feel a little affection again. How long has it been since Robert just held my hand? she wondered.

The rain was coming down in cats and dogs outside and they huddled under the restaurant's awning. When Tim spotted a taxi he waved frantically, hoping to be seen through the rain and dark. His waving was to no avail. Almost too late he rushed out from what little shelter they had from the storm and hailed the taxi to a stop.

He opened the rear door and called to Sarah. When she realised that Tim was going to stand in the rain and hold the door for her, she ran to the taxi and entered as quickly as she could. Tim wasn't far behind.

"You're soaked," she said, bursting into laughter, "You look like a drowned rat."

"I must look a sight!" he said, laughing along with her.

"No one's held a door open for me for a long time," she said. "Especially not in the pouring rain."

"I didn't want your lovely dress to get ruined," he said. "You look beautiful you know."

He was sweet, he was attentive. Under different circumstances Sarah could fall for Tim, if he wasn't so much younger than her, that is. As it was, she was enjoying the attention. Somehow the storm had taken on a different tone in just the few minutes she had spent with him. It closed them into their own little world, it shut out everyone else, and kept her safe from her unhappy reality.

The taxi dropped them at a notorious night club on Oxford Street. When Sarah realised where Tim was taking her she tried to back out. "Oh, no," she said, "I can't go here."

"Why not, it's just a club?"

"I've heard about this place!"

"See, it's famous!" he answered, grinning. "We're going to have fun. It's your night off, a night to kick back, and let your hair down. No limits, just for one night."

His enthusiasm was infectious. "Why not?" she said. "A little spontaneity never hurt anyone!"

They went to the down stairs dance bar. Apparently, even Oxford Street celebrates Valentine's Day – the lights that were spinning and flashing were shaped like hearts. The dance floor was crowded with people. Tim took Sarah by the hand and led her out into the sea of bodies.

Sarah was a little self conscious dancing with Tim. It had been a long time since she had danced, and Tim was good, very good. He had a great sense of rhythm and his whole body moved to the beat. He was graceful and powerful at the same time.

As if he could sense her unease, Tim took her hands in his. He used her hands to guide her movements, to draw her forward first with one hand and then the other. With her hands he lifted her shoulders in time to the music. When he put a hand on her hip she blushed all the way from her breasts to her cheeks, but her chagrin was hidden in the pink glow of the lighting. He used the hand to guide the movement of her hips.

It wasn't long before everything combined and Sarah finally relaxed, really relaxed and let the music take her. Tim sensed the changes taking place in Sarah and he guided her through some turns, lifting one arm above her head and turning her with the hand on her hip. She was enjoying dancing again, enjoying losing herself in the music and the touch of the man she danced with.

The tempo of the music changed through the night. Sometimes slow, and sometimes fast, but dancing with Tim it was always sensuous. They were in contact through every song. The first time when he brought her into his arms after a turn she was uncomfortable, but she quickly relaxed in his embrace, and even came to enjoy his touch.

Once Sarah was comfortable dancing, Tim removed his sodden shirt and hooked it in his pants. Sarah was a little shocked at first, but when she noticed that he wasn't the only man dancing without a shirt she relaxed. She found her eyes drawn to the play of muscles in his chest and stomach. She couldn't help but wonder what those muscles would feel like as they tensed and then relaxed.

She put her hand on Tim's bicep. As he danced it alternated between being hard and soft, depending on how he was moving. It was sexy feeling the muscles move under his skin. She let her hand wander up to his shoulder and down over his chest and stomach. His body was hard, strong, she could feel the muscles under his skin flex as he moved. She put her other hand on his hip, and before long was running both of her hands over his body.

Tim's own hands were on her body, touching her, causing tingles to run all over her skin. Their hands danced over each other's bodies as their bodies moved to the music. She was shocked the first time Tim's hand passed over her breast. He's feeling me up, she thought, even as her nipple responded and stiffened. She realized she was doing the same, running her hands all over his body as well. She didn't care, after all, Tim had said, "No limits," and she was coming to enjoy letting go for a night.

Tim took her in his arms and kissed her. She opened herself to him, letting his tongue enter her mouth, letting it explore her. She pressed her body up against him as his hands ran up and down her back, over her arse and her thighs. It felt so right. But it was wrong.

She pushed him away and took a step back. "I'm sorry," she said. Even though she knew he couldn't hear her over the music.

Sarah walked away, towards the exit. When Tim caught up with her he took her hand and turned her to face him. The music was still too loud for words, so he took her in his arms again and kissed her. Again she opened her mouth and let their tongues meet. She wanted him, he knew she did, and he wanted her. But it couldn't be. She turned away again, holding his hand in hers, and leading him to the exit.

Once outside with the storm raging around them again she put her arms around him and held him close, with her head on his shoulder. He stroked her head with one hand and held her in a firm grip with the other arm. She knew he understood. She wanted him, but it couldn't be.

"I can't," she said, "I wish I could, but I can't."

"I know," he said.

"I'm going to leave him you know," she said. "Tonight was the last straw. I've tried so many times to talk to him, to understand what has happened with us."

"Is he cheating on you?" he asked.

"I don't know. Does it matter? Whether he's working late or he's fucking his assistant, I know where I am on his list of priorities. Right at the bottom."

"I'd like to see you again, Sarah."

"That can't happen."

"But you're leaving him, you'll be free."

"My life's going to get complicated, I don't think it would be a good idea to complicate it even more. I'm sorry. I wish I could."

"Then tonight. Come home with me tonight. Let us have tonight. It's over with him anyway."

"No," she said, "no, it's just not something I can do."

"Alright, I wish you would, but I admire your resolve anyway."

A cab was passing and he hailed it down for her. He held the door open, and their eyes met and locked as she got in. Once she was in, she took his hand and pulled him in after her. He sat down beside her and she embraced him and kissed him passionately, deeply.

The driver waited patiently, for a little while. "Where to?" he eventually asked.

They ended their kiss, and Tim asked her, "Where do you live?"

"Tell him your place, I want to go home with you."

Tim didn't hesitate in telling the driver where to take them. On the ride home they touched and kissed, and Tim whispered in Sarah's ear all of the things he wanted to do with her.

"When I get you home," he said, "I'm going to undo that dress and let it slowly slide down your body, gradually revealing your whole body to me as it falls to the floor.

"Then I'll undo your bra, and let it fall on top of your dress. I'll look at your body, at your bare breasts as your chest heaves, and they rise and fall, and you wish for me to touch you.

"I won't though, not yet, I'll absorb every detail of you, every curve, every pretty little freckle. I'll drink you in with my eyes so I'll always remember the way you looked tonight.

"Then I'll take a piece of ice and put it lightly on your stomach. I'll run it up your stomach, between your breasts, along your collar bone and up your neck to just beneath your ear. The heat of your body will melt the ice much too fast, but not before I run it back down your body, and over your breast, pausing for a moment on your nipple, exciting it with the cold, making it hard and pointy.

"Your hot nipple will melt the ice then, but I'll take another piece and continue to move it all over your body. From your mound to the hollow between your collar bones. And wherever the ice goes my tongue will follow. You'll feel the cold of the ice on your skin and then the heat of my tongue following it. Cold and then hot. Driving you wild with desire.

"Just when you don't think you can take it any more I'll take another piece of ice and put it on your mound. Ever so slowly, I'll slide it downwards, ever closer to your lips and your pussy. I'll kneel in front of you and lower your panties with my teeth as the ice comes closer and closer to your secret bits.

"I'll run the ice over your lips and follow it with my tongue again. The water from the melting ice will mix with your juices on my tongue, and I'll know the sweetest taste there ever was.

"Here we are," the driver said, shocking them both out of their private world.

Sarah went to pay, but Tim wouldn't let her. She felt a pang of guilt, but it was such a chivalrous gesture she could insist.

When the car drove away, she asked him, "Are you really going to do all of those things to me?"

"Oh yes, baby, all that and so much more! I want to taste every part of you, I want to kiss every square centimetre, I'm not going to let you go home until I've touched every single bit of you."

"Mmmmmm," she said, "that sounds yummy. What are we waiting for?"

He put his arm around her and led her up to his apartment. Once inside he led her to the kitchen, when he filled up a tray with ice.

"Do you think you have enough?" she asked.

"No," he said, "you're so hot, you'll melt this in seconds. It's all I've got though, so I'm going to do the best I can."

He stepped over to her and undid her dress, letting it fall to the floor as promised. Her bra joined the dress moments later. Sarah was a little self conscious, it had been years since a man, other than Robert, had seen her like this. Tim kissed her quickly, then swept her up in his arms. He carried both her and the ice to his bedroom.

He placed the ice carefully on a bedside table, then unceremoniously threw Sarah on the bed. She squealed as she flew through the air, and giggled uncontrollably when she landed.

Then he began with the ice. It wasn't quite as he predicted, he had a piece in each hand, and he ran them all over her front, her stomach, her thighs, her breasts, her neck, her throat, especially her throat. At the same time he ran his tongue all over her body as well. Heat and cold. No sooner would goose bumps rise from the cold than his tongue would come and warm the area, causing a whole new set of goose bumps to rise.

He would tease her, running the ice and his tongue under the elastic of her panties. His tongue would lift them and strain for access to her moist, sensual centre. He tried everywhere, at the waist band, at the elastic on her groin, all to no avail.

Eventually, he straddled her knees and placed his hands on her hips, on the line of her panties. He began to lower his hands, taking her panties with them. Sarah lifted her hips to let them slide down over her arse. He had wondered whether she would cooperate, or just let him have his way. Here she was cooperating, actively, and it excited him. When he had her panties almost as far as her knees she raised her legs up to her chest so he could take them the rest of the way. When she lifted her knees he was treated to a beautiful view of her pussy and puckered anus.

He threw her underwear across the room and lowered her legs. One on each side of him. Parted. Open. Her pussy was barely hidden behind a light covering of hair. He put his hands on her knees and moved them further apart. As her legs spread so did her lips, exposing the slightest hint of her moistly glistening interior.

He reached over for more ice and then slowly lowered his mouth to her pussy. He ran the ice and his tongue around her thighs and across her lips. He circled her pussy, drawing smaller and smaller rings, that were alternately cold and then hot.

When eventually the ice had melted, his tongue met her clitoris for the first time. It was like an electric shock passing through her body. When he began to lick her clit in earnest she wasn't sure she would be able to take it. She was about to stop him several times, but was overpowered by the glorious pleasure on each occasion. Without even knowing it she was thrusting her hips into the air, pressing her clitoris against his tongue as hard as she possibly could.

She began to cum under the incredible workings of his beautifully naughty tongue. For a moment she was embarrassed when she felt her juices flowing, but only for a moment, it just felt too good to waste time being embarrassed. Her juices flowed and her back arched. She came until she was dizzy and oh so sensitive. She needed to tell him to stop but she couldn't form words, eventually she pushed him away with her hand.

He knew what she was feeling and moved up the bed, covering her body with his. He slid his hand down between them to guide himself into her. This was the moment, this was the line, if she crossed it there could never be any coming back. God, yes, she wanted to cross it. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. She wanted to open herself to him and have him inside her. She toyed with the idea of taking her wedding ring off, but she kept it on, she wanted it to be a witness to everything that was about to happen. She was free, finally free, and living once again.

An amazing sensation entered her pussy. Ice. And then his hot shaft entered her right after. Freezing cold numbing her, and his hot cock warming her immediately after. The ice quickly melted, but the feeling of both hot and cold inside at the same time was mind blowing.

God, he felt good inside her. His deep thrusts bringing more and more pleasure upon her as they grew faster and faster, more and more powerful. Her hands on his back could feel the muscles under his skin. His stomach was firm and solid as it pressed against hers.

She opened her eyes to look at him, but could see only the barest outline in the dark. Until the lightning struck, lighting the room up for the barest instant. It was enough to have his face and body imprinted on her retina, so that even after the light was gone she could still see the ecstasy on his face. When the thunder came so did she. She rode the storm with him, feeling the ecstasy of the tempest again and again as she came over and over. Until finally his muscles all constricted and he heaved his cock into her deeply and released his load into her depths, shot after shot, his muscles heaving with each convulsion of his cock.