tagErotic CouplingsAmanda's Unexpected Encounter

Amanda's Unexpected Encounter


The front cover of The Metro newspaper had not seemed to change in months; credit crisis, everything crises, we are all fucked, big time. Well, it had never used the phrase 'we are all fucked, big time' but it might as well have, because everyone on the underground train had a feeling that the commute into the financial capital of the world would never quite be the same again. The heady days of excess, both financial and personal were disappearing faster than the bloody estate agent minis propelling commission loaded property used car salespeople around the city streets looking for their next easy buck. Well, at least one good thing had come from the credit crunch, the estate agents where the second to get theirs after the bankers.

But, the hum of the tube carriage as it headed on its daily south western route into London was a growing sound of gloom and despair, as a thousand miserable faces peered down at today's headline of despair, "City Law Firms Next To Crash", of fucking brilliant she thought, absolutely fucking brilliant.

Amanda had worked for a London law firm for nearly a decade now, in IT by the way, the actual world of law was an unfathomable set of books pilled high on partners shelves. However, it paid well, was stable, and while the city was rocking with riches, the law firms, doing the mergers and acquisitions and big investment deals prospered. She was happy in her job, had earned enough to do the things she wanted at weekends, and had lived life to the full to say the very least during her time there. She had never been the office bike, she was far too picky for that label to ever be attached to her, but, she had burned the candle at both ends, and she more than often smiled at the memory of being used at both ends on more than one occasion. If anybody could have been said to have ridden the economic growth of the last ten years it was her in more ways than one.

That had all petered out in the last few years though, she was getting sensible, or old, or boring, or probably a combination of all three of them, but, her sex life was now confined to where it always should have been, her home and her partner.

It was bloody dull, to say the least, but, she had just sort of ambled into it, and the effort to actually do something interesting, something daring, something that would excite her, the thought of doing it and the memory of having done it now seemed just like too much bloody effort to even bother with. She stood on the train and had a few fleeting memories of past encounters and adventures, but then the train rocked and rolled, her knees ached slightly, her shoes, sensible ones pinched her toes and like everybody else she looked down and buried her head in the bad news of the day. Life was shit and getting worse, and she really couldn't be bothered to try to have fun anymore.

October 18th 2008 was no different that any other day. When was any particular workday any better or worse, more interesting or dull than any one previous? Most days the entire IT department was on autopilot, even the banter was predictable, the jokes the same, the responses the same, and with the credit crunch in full swing, and the headline suggested the legal market was next to get crunched, they temptation to joke about that had waned today. Who wants to joke about being made redundant in a city being slowly made redundant. Well, Mike did, but Mike thought stabbings where funny. Or his friends did when they texted through 'jokes' on his mobile. Even his attempts at humor fell flat today, primarily because he knew that when the crunch did finally hit, a 45 year old whose only claim to fame was rescuing a windows 2003 server within 6 hours wouldn't be at the head of the must have information technology professionals queue in the job centre. A joke about a city banker losing their job did not quite sound so funny when it could be you next.

Life was full, the office was dull, and Amanda trudged on through the day. It could only get worse she thought.

One thing rescued the day, drinks after work. An invite from the secretarial team brought a glimmer of hope at the end of a truly tedious day. The secretaries did think they were above everybody else because they looked after the partners, but it was an invite to drink something, and that that would help numb the numbness.

The George was half-empty, which meant it was a quarter full; as it was normally jammed to the door on a Thursday, the evening before "do fuck all Friday".

Amanda got to the bar without having to push anybody, or cower under the armpit of a 6'5" lawyer, and once again, she thought the credit crunch did have other benefits, quicker drinks, while she could still afford to buy them of course.

Whiskey and Diet Coke tonight, large one, yes please, what the fuck do you think, she thought as the barman poured her drink and handed it over.

She drank half of it in one go, then the next half and then the last of it.

The taste of it easing around her mouth and down her throat made life feel a little better. Whiskey was always warm going down, the coke s tingled her throat at the same time. One more should perk her up, and it did.

She sat in a group, mostly women, Mike as far away as possible, listening to the chat, not really bothering to take part. The secretaries never gossiped about partners in front of back office staff, so there was nothing really to get interested in. Weddings, No. Children, No. Holidays planned for next year, not fucking likely.

Amanda grabbed her phone to idly check for text messages. Nothing. Good god she thought to herself, five years ago there would have been a string of them, mainly from men, mainly from men she had fucked, was fucking, or might fuck if they were lucky. Ok, not all at the same time, she wasn't fucking everybody everyday, but there would have been something on a Thursday night, it was an absolutely racing certainty, and tonight, last week, the month before, nothing.

Two more whiskeys had her checking again, still nothing.

Checking for text messages always started as a once off glance, but, drink turned checking into a tick, an odd recurring wink for your fingers. The chances of a text materializing didn't increase with the rate of checking, but, the intake of booze did increase the requirement to check. Amanda was convinced something might appear, the day had put her in such a miserable mood that the law of lady luck meant something must come to cheer her up. Bugger, she might even have some fun if somebody texted her out of the blue. Come on your dopey fuckers she thought, this could be your night, if Mike texted me now he might even get a shag, fuck it, he might even get a blow job in the toilets if he just tried his luck. It was not fire in her belly that was driving her on, it was a dull ache in her heart, life was just shit and boring and surely somebody would be feeling the same and think of her and think it was worth texting. Somebody must be as bored and has desperate for some fun. Her brain told her they would not but the Jack Daniels convinced her they would.

Her constant glances didn't sway lady luck in any particular direction, and by 11:00PM she realised that even one more whiskey wouldn't make the phone vibrate, she wouldn't vibrate either. She grabbed her bag, and headed for the door, she couldn't even be arsed to say good night to the table, she had had enough, time to go home, to bed, to sleep, to wake up, to do it all again.

She headed for the tube station, not looking up, her eyes could not really focus anyway that well, eight whiskeys were taking their toll.

It was dark, cold, but not raining.

She stumbled forward, not completely pissed, just numb enough not to feel the effects of the cold air, but drunk enough to not feel the pavement under her feet. She was practiced at this though, and she just wanted to get on the train and get home.

Amanda kept going forward, knowing instinctively where she was heading.

She did not need to look up; she had done this a thousand times in the past 10 years, a number of them drunk.

The tube was 100 yards ahead on the left, thank god, not long before she could head down into the station and wait for approaching rumble of the train home.

Amanda was thinking purely about a warm bed, the thought of any fun completely lost now when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Fuck, she thought, spinning around and seeing a blue suit directly in front of her. She did not have time to ponder what was happening, her natural reaction to turn around after being touched meant she was already staring at the owner of the hand, well his chest at least. No time to worry about what was happening, only a split second reaction to turn.

She obviously didn't recognise the chest, but liked the suit, and the tie, but even killers can wear nice clothes. Her head tilted upwards expecting to see a stranger, perhaps she had dropped something or left something in the pub. The suit made her think it was most probably a legal partner at her firm saying a goodbye.

Her eyes took in the face of the owner of the hand and while her heart did not exactly skip a beat, she did think of her phone and the desire for a text message, and think, well if it had to be somebody, it might as well be him, well, maybe.

"Sorry, I was just heading for the train and I was sure I saw you."

"Right, OK, yes, I was just heading home, been out with work."

He smiled.

"Yes, you were always out with work, well, I only thought about saying hello, don't want to miss the train, but, anyway, nice to see you again."

Amanda was taken by surprise, is that it, just saying hello. Well, why shouldn't it be. They hadn't even spoken for 5 years, hadn't texted, emailed, anything. She had done what she had wanted to do with him, and well, that was fine. Anyway, it was far too complicated at the time, and well, she had moved on, on to bigger and better things, well maybe not bigger as such.

She smiled.

"Oh right, well, nice to see you," she was thinking of something to say, something to just keep the moment going for a second, like, why didn't you text earlier you fucking idiot type thing. He didn't have her number, she didn't have his was probably a logical answer, but she was just so bloody annoyed that it was so bloody late, and yes, he probably wouldn't have been first pick for a re-run of old times, but, she wanted something tonight, and he would have done. And now he was just saying hello and buggering off home.

He smiled and went to walk off.

"You don't fancy one drink then," it was the only thing she could think of.

He looked down at his watch, frowned, it wasn't looking like a positive response.

"Sorry, been out late, up early, need to get home, you know how it is." She did, in his case anyway, it had always been the odd meeting, risky, in each others houses, fucking in each others houses while partners where out, she shuddered again at the thought, but, she knew how it was and how getting home on time was important for him.

She smiled again.

"Ah well, another time, nice to have had a quick one, but, see you around; say hi for me when you get home." Amanda decided that it was not to be.

She walked off towards the tube, deflated, a spark of hope of something had entered her head, and her pussy for a second, but, time to get home.

She had only moved a few yards when the hand returned.

"Fuck it," he said, "just one quick one, and then I must get to the station."

Her heart now did skip a beat, and her nipples hardened just a touch. Ok, it was just a drink, but, it was better than nothing was and she was with somebody she shouldn't be, late at night in London, and, well, if this was as exciting as life was, then it was better than nothing. At least she knew she could pleasure herself when she got home as some memories were coming back to her she could use under the duvet later.

The closet bar was down some stairs, half empty, everywhere was, and dark. He got some drinks; another whiskey and a G&T and they sat at a table in the corner, and said nothing for 5 minutes. It was awkward for both of them.

The only thing they had every really spoken about was fucking each other.

Yes, they had had normal conversations but their other halves had been there, and now, 5 years on, what was there to say.

How is work?

How are the kids?

How's is the other half?

How is the house?

They ended up doing them all in the next 5 minutes, and sat again in silence.

Amanda was not bored though, she was excited. Her knee was touching his, as they used to do when people were around, but she was not sure if it was accidental, as it first started, or on purpose, like it followed. It had started accidentally and then turned into something more, like the time he had put his hand in side her bra in the taxi on the way home and felt her tits while their partners where in the car. She smiled and winced at the thought at the same time.

His knee did not move, and she was nine whiskeys to the good, so decided to apply a little pressure, it still did not move.

She smiled in the dim light, and got one in return.

"It was fucking madness, wasn't it," he decided the knee was enough of a signal to get onto the conversation she was also now dying to have.

She smiled like a cat.

"Don't remind me," she grimaced, "it was madness, fucking madness, and I still wake up in cold sweat thinking about it,"

They both went quiet again, smiling, and remembering.

"I can't see a fireplace without smiling anymore," he laughed as soon as he said it, and so did she. She laughed and remembered.

It had been a early morning text. "You cannot come to mine, do you want me to come to yours". She had not been ready for it, but was alone and getting ready for work, but she wanted some fun, so she sent one back.

He arrived at the door, and she had been ready to leave, perhaps this was going to be a quick fondle and off.

They sat on the sofa, their tongues in each other's mouths within seconds. His hands were all over her blouse, tugging it out of the top of her skirt, pushing his hands up towards her tits, pulling them out of her bra so quickly his fingers pulling at her nipples surprised her.

She sat with her whiskey in her hand, silent, within him again, not able to stop the smile widening on her face as she remembered that first morning in her front room, being stripped down to her hold ups and shoes on her sofa, ready for work one minute, ready for sex the next.

Once naked, Amanda had been picked up and stood in front of the mirror that sat just above the fireplace, at a height where all she could see was her face and upper body, and him standing behind her as he pushed her legs apart and his cock inside her soaking pussy. She was on tiptoes being fucked from behind and staring into the mirror and into his eyes.

"What a morning that was," she spoke now, "I've never been fucked on a fireplace since, not sure anybody else could think of doing that even if they tried to think of the strangest place to have a fuck."

They both looked at each other, and her knee pressed harder into his, his hand moved onto her thigh and squeezed as he smiled into her eyes.

"Thank goodness we are more sensible now," he looked serious for a moment, looked down into his drink. Amanda thought about that one for a second also. Thank goodness we are more sensible now? What do you mean thank goodness, life is a fucking complete and utter bore, being sensible isn't something to choose to do, its something you end up doing because the risk isn't worth the pleasure anymore.

She nodded her head though, life had moved on, and she had actually stopped even thinking about what she had got up to in the last 10 years, not just with him, but with anybody else, she had dallied with. This is the first time she had actually realised that while she had only gained a few years in age, she had changed completely, from hedonistic to hamstrung in just a few years.

Amanda sighed unintentionally, and she felt him remove his hand from her thigh.

"Sorry," she muttered, "I was just thinking how fucking boring life had become."

They looked at each other and his hand moved back to her thigh, but a bit further up her leg than before, his fingers now nestling where her leg joined her torso, inches from her pussy, and she could feel his grip pulling it towards his grip.

"Shall we just fuck," she wanted to say, but did not. Instead, she just sat there feeling his hand on her thigh and hoping he would do something to her, to make force her into doing something exciting, so she would not have to make the decision for herself.

He moved his head closer to hers, and gently kissed her on the lips, moving his free arm around her body and pulling her closer to him. In the same motion, he moved his hand off her thigh, up, and under her skirt, his fingers making a direct line between her legs, which parted as she felt his hand move further towards her wetness. By the time his hand reached her knickers, her tongue was exploring her mouth, within seconds his fingers were inside her, and she could feel them probing her. Amanda sighed again, but this time it was not with regret that life had become so dull but with the expectation of the pleasure that was to come.

The bar was half-empty and dark and the table they sat at was in a small semi circle booth, the table providing cover for their hands, and the darkness hiding the rapid movement that only sexual arousal could produce.

His fingers played now inside her, touching one second on her pussy lips, the next back inside, then on her clit. He was playing her with his fingers, and she could feel her juices covering the inside of her thigh, while her tongue played with his in side theirs mouths.

Amanda could not take this much longer, and she was aware she had not even touched him yet, she was being touched and kissed and her only response after years of playing it safe was to sit their and be pleasured.

She was going to cum, she knew it, her heart rate was increasing, she could feel it pounding in her chest, pushing her to the kind of orgasm she even knew she needed anymore.

His fingers worked inside her now faster, clearly he knew what she wanted, or more likely, this was a safe way for him to enjoy himself without making any commitment to her, making her cum was safe for him as he didn't have to get too involved.

Amanda moved her hand and grabbed for his cock through his trousers. She felt him move away from her and she knew what he had been doing, and she was angry with him. He was still working on her pussy, but, this was not about being safe, for him or her, and he was trying to have his full fat cake without any of the risk of eating it.

Amanda pulled away and stood up, her skirt still hitched up around her thighs and walked towards the toilets. "You can come with me and finish this off or fuck off home," she shouted, smiling and looking angry at the same time.

He sat and looked at her, confused for a second and then smiling as he realised she had rumbled him. Amanda couldn't help but smile as he took the fingers that had been inside her just seconds ago and put them in his mouth and liked them dry, stood up and followed her straight to the toilets.

She walked inside, not even looking if it was a male or female toilet, and headed to a cubicle. He was right behind her, and as she entered he closed the door behind them both and hitched her skirt up, pushing his fingers back inside her as she fell forward to lean on the toiler cistern. Amanda could feel him fingering her even harder than when they sat down and heard the zip on his trousers being yanked down. Immediately the sound of the zip had stopped his fingers left her and his cock entered, she knew by the size it was his and she pushed back onto it as he increased the speed of the fucking.

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