"It's Just A ..." Pt. 02

Author's note: The goal of this series of cumulative vignettes is to briefly (in 1000 words or less) capture the tension that rises right until the moment of an erotic coupling... which is then purposefully left unresolved. The emphasis is more on the buildup than on the climax, so keep that in mind as you play along!

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Are you available to work with a client this Thursday at 3pm?

That text came from one of the agencies for whom I do independent contracting work as a sign language interpreter. After checking my schedule, I responded: Yes. What and where is the job? Who's the client?

The response came back a few minutes later: It's a job interview at a coffee shop for Steven - the young man you've worked with several times in the past.

My stomach instantly turned nauseous. The only way I was going to endure this appointment was to keep reminding myself: It's just a job.

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I had deliberately been avoiding all communication with Steven for several weeks, ever since I'd met him 'off-hours' at the movies to watch "CODA." My husband and I had argued about whether or not I should be going to a movie with a single young man, but I assured him that it was no big deal because a) he was my client, b) I was old enough to be his mom, c) we'd be part of a larger group, and d) it was "just a movie."

Unfortunately, his friends never arrived, and - in the secrecy of the dark theater - he somehow seduced me into sucking his dick. I wasn't even sure how that happened... and in the aftermath, I felt mortified, humiliated, and guilty. It took me a long time to even be able to look my husband in his eyes, fearing that I might inadvertently betray my terrible secret. Steven tried reaching out to me a couple times, but I had been able to successfully ignore him... until that job came up.

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When I arrived at the coffee shop shortly before 3pm, Steven was already there and sitting at one of the tables. He smiled wide and rose to greet me, but I quickly signed a cold-hearted interruption: No. I'm just here for for the interview.

Steven clearly looked disappointed, but went to find the manager.

The interview itself went smoothly, and I was able to shift into 'professional mode' in order to voice on Steven's behalf and interpret the manager's spoken words. The conversation concluded with Steven being offered a job as a bakery associate - a job that wouldn't require a lot of communication or customer interaction. Steven had been looking for work for some time, so he delightedly shook the manager's hand and accepted.

As we prepared to leave, we discovered it had started pouring outside, so we stood for a moment under the front awning. I was still upset at him, but - understanding the significance of the occasion - I offered: Congratulations.

He thanked me... but then added: It's really good to see you again. I think about you a lot.

I shook my head in disgust, speculating that he probably "thinks" about me when jerking off. As I drifted off in my mind with that thought, however, I suddenly realized that I had been subconsciously staring at his crotch. Horrified at my own mind, I quickly lifted up my gaze... and found Steven staring at me with a sly smile on his face.

I see you still think about it too, he signed.

I do not!! I vehemently denied it... although part of me knew it was actually the truth. I had indeed pictured his tall thick cock - more than once - but I couldn't bear to admit that to myself... and certainly not to him. Trying to extract myself from the situation, I signed: Goodbye, Steven.

However, before I could walk away, he suddenly grabbed my hand, lifted it up, and kissed it softly. For a brief moment, I felt frozen in place. His kiss was so warm, and so electric, that - to my great surprise - it also instantly created a warmth between my legs. What is happening to me?!?

Steven let go of my hand and started walking away, but - as he left the shelter of the awning and began to get drenched by the pouring rain - it suddenly hit me that he'd have to walk several blocks away to catch the bus. Spontaneously, I darted out into the cold rain after him. Was it sympathy? Something else??

He whirled around when I grabbed his arm, undoubtedly surprised to see me. As the rain began to soak through my own clothes, I quickly signed to him: Do you need a ride??

He responded enthusiastically: That would be great!

Several frenzied footsteps later, we collapsed our wet selves into the warm safety of my car. Only then did I begin to wonder if it was such a wise idea to be alone with him in a space that had its privacy maintained by the waterfalls of rain cascading down its windows.

With a flashback to the moment in the movie theater when I had looked over and first discovered his exposed cock, I glanced over at his lap, as if half-expecting to see him unzipped again. He wasn't... and I unexpectedly found myself feeling disappointed by that.

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Several minutes later, I could tell by Steven's moans that he was getting ready to cum, so I pulled my mouth off his huge cock to instead wrap my hand around his throbbing shaft.

He touched my chin to get my attention: You don't want a mess in your car like what happened in the movie theater, do you?

He was right - not only would a hand job require a thorough cleaning, but I'd also have to find a way to mask the smell from my husband. Urgently, I asked him: True - so now what??

Steven smiled, and - nodding at me - opened his mouth wide.

My husband had always teased me about the fact that the only time I had swallowed was the very first time that I'd given him a blow job. For the first time in almost 20 years, I was about to willingly undo that streak.