Friday After Work

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Don't think. Just do.
808 words
3.84
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*You know who you are*

"Don't think. Just do."

That was my mantra for the drive home from work that Friday afternoon. I concentrated on traffic and stop lights, staying fixated on a routine rather than let my anxieties run amok. I'd been on edge all damn day, today being the worst of the last few this week. It took every ounce of self-control to concentrate on work and not just lock my office door to take care of the tingling between my legs.

It was Fall, dark when I left the office at five and I deliberately didn't want to have a minute to spare before my special guest showed up. The threatening clouds finally let loose and the rain on leaves made driving almost treacherous. By the time I pulled into my condo's ground-floor garage, I was a vibrating bundle of anxiety.

This thing between us that started just over four weeks ago, when we began chatting online - about nothing, really - and I mistook your location as 'NY'. When I realized my mistake and that you lived only 30 minutes away, I honestly thought about running away from you.

You were too witty, too candid and too perfect the Ying for my Yang to do that. So I gave you my number. You called me and that first night we chatted for four hours. You behaved. We met for coffee a few days later. We talked. We confirmed what we already knew. We clicked.

You kept pushing, for which I was both grateful and resentful. We had lunch, twice. You behaved. You called late on a Tuesday night and ... we talked. You did not behave. You knew I was vulnerable, on edge and eager to betray myself. You talked me into masturbating for you, while you whispered horrible things in my ear. I told you shit that I had never told anyone, had never even voiced to myself. You mentally led me to the darkest places, had me make choices about what I liked or would accept. All the while, my fingers were busy. Each time I lost my composure, you pushed harder. That night, we talked for nearly four hours and I loved every second of it. I also regretted ever being that candid the moment I hung up.

Still, I also let you talk me into giving you my address so you could come by after work on that Friday and take me out to dinner.

I made you promise, SWEAR to BEHAVE (despite what happened Tuesday night). I knew this was a lie and so did you, but before I went to bed Thursday night I sent you the email that changed everything. "I can't bring myself to get the words out of my mouth, so you can have this as an official permission slip. Do what you need to do to move us forward, Lauren. Don't hold back. I won't."

So that brings us to the point where I pulled into my ground floor garage. I had enough time to make it upstairs, ditch my jacket and go freshen up. Off came the black wool skirt worn to work, on went the snug black lambskin miniskirt.

I checked myself in the mirror one final time: lip gloss, white satin long sleeved blouse, white satin pushup bra, black satin thong under the leather and a pair of black thigh highs. Black 3" work pumps.

My doorbell. My thong was soaking.

You wore those black jeans, the ones I had first noticed. Black boots and a snug black top, leather jacket and purse hanging from one fist. Auburn hair in a bun. Menacing.

I stuttered something pleasant and ushered you in, all the confidence and calmness built up over the last few weeks disappearing like smoke in the wind.

The first kiss caught me be surprise, right after I shut the front door. "Can't wait" was all you said before planting one on my lips that made me weak in the knees and curled my toes. There, with your left hand in my hair, you backed me up against the wall and never ever broke that kiss.

*You know who you are*

Not behaving. Not going as planned. Too fast. These were the only thoughts I could grasp while your tongue made me melt.

Then I felt your weight shift, your leg move and pressure between my thighs. Your right hand on the back of my neck, your left arm holding me close like we were dancing and your right leg between mine.

Breathtaking.

Then I felt the pressure of you shifting me backwards, one step two step three and I knew where this was headed. The couch. You'd asked me so many questions about my place and now I knew why.

You'd been thinking about this as much as I.

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4 Comments
Anna_MorganAnna_Morgan2 months ago

This is the definition of erotic. Well done!

MeanOralSexToy4womenMeanOralSexToy4women4 months ago

Great start to a lesbian series. I usually do not read gay/lesbian stories, but this author and I started a chat. She stopped responding so I read this story and see I am not her cup of tea…

KitschshamanKitschshamanover 3 years ago
Delicious...

You said just enough and everything without saying anything, really...nice...

AnonymousAnonymousover 7 years ago
One question

Was this a guy and a gal or two gals?

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