Just For Once

"Just for once," Sonya said very quietly, "just...you know...let go a bit...just for once be..."

A slut like you? Rachel kept the thought in her mind, she loved her best friend, but had always been amazed by how...well, how easy she was. It seemed as if Sonya could read her mind or something.

"Well," Sonya went on, and there was almost a hint of annoyance on her voice, "when was the last time you had a really good fuck?" Rachel jumped a bit and looked nervously around the crowded cocktail lounge. A usual Saturday night here, Sonya had said, women their age and older, men the same age, plus a sprinkling of men in their early twenties by the look of them, out cruising for sexually hungry housewives-like herself.

Rachel thought about Sonya's question though. At thirty-three, not all that long divorced, when was the last time she had had...

"You know," she said, with the impish grin on her beautiful face that so endeared people to her, "I honestly have to say I'm not sure that I've ever had a really good...you know...what you said." And she giggled, to hide her nervousness at being so open about something she considered so private, and also at her fear that those at the tables around them could hear what they were talking about.

Sonya let out an exasperated little laugh at Rachel's avoidance of what, in her opinion, was a great word, and an even better activity.

"Ok then. Well, when was the last time you had any sort of fuck at all?" Sonya persisted. She was worried that her best friend had become far too withdrawn since her divorce. "And your own fingers don't count," she added, and laughed.

Rachel blushed.

"Well, um, not since the divorce... maybe a few months before that," only it hadn't been sex at all, she thought, she had offered herself to him in a desperate attempt to maybe salvage what was left of the marriage, but he had just humped her, with no concern for her at all, and then he had gone back outside and drunk beer. And maybe, she had to admit to herself, it had always been like that. There never had been any of the wild, uncontrollable passion that Sonya so often talked about. No, just the lying there, trying to be suitably responsive, trying to enjoy it, but really just the lying there.

"But that's over a year," and Sonya almost yelled it, and hugged her across the table, and felt genuinely sorry for her. "That's just not good for you." And she finished her drink, not sure now what to say. She was just rising to go and get them both another drink-she was determined to get Rachel drunk enough to lose some inhibitions, to want to fuck, even if it had to be with Sonya herself. And Sonya had to admit again that fucking her best friend was something she had so wanted to do for such a long time.

But just as she stood, a tall, very well dressed man in a suit approached her and said hello.

"Why hi Ben, how are you?" and her memories of her last encounter with Ben momentarily put Rachel right out of her mind.

"I'm fine thank you. How are you?" and then as an afterthought, "hello." He said this to Rachel, off-handed, not wanting her there. He too had strong memories of the night he had spent with Sonya, a night he wanted repeated. "Would you like to dance?" he asked Sonya, and led her to the dance floor without waiting for her answer.

Rachel sat there looking somewhat stunned for a moment. Sonya had told her about this Ben person, so she knew she would now be just in the way for the rest of the evening. Sonya was like that, after their dance the two would come back and sit with her, but Rachel knew that she herself would feel uncomfortable, embarrassed that she sat there partnerless while they politely passed the time until they felt they had been polite long enough, and would leave to go to Ben's place, where Sonya would spend the rest of the weekend. So she decided to finish her drink then excuse herself, it was nearly nine anyway, she could say she had a headache or something. She sipped her drink again, and became aware of someone standing beside the table.

"Hello," a kind voice said, "I hope you don't mind, but I noticed you had been left by yourself, and was wondering if maybe you'd like to dance." And he laughed softly, to cover any awkwardness over the reference to her being left alone.

Rachel looked up. She saw a man about her age, about five feet ten inches tall, slim and fit looking, with collar-length brown hair, blue eyes, a face that was appealing but not billboard handsome, just a nice face, with eyes that smiled, a mouth that hinted that it was used to saying kind things. He was dressed in expensive looking black slacks, a blue shirt and jacket.

He saw a woman in her early thirties, he guessed a couple of inches shorter than himself, slim and fit looking, someone used to material comfort, thick light brown hair that was loose, half way down her back, green eyes, and a mouth that hinted at sadness and disappointment. She was very pretty, a slightly narrowish sort of face with a cute chin, high cheek bones, clear skin. In fact, he thought she was quite beautiful. Despite the tinge of sadness in them, there was a glistening in her eyes. She was dressed in dark blue slacks, he could see that, and a pale blue, almost lavender blouse, the lines of a similar coloured bra just noticeable under it. He did notice these things, these were things he always noticed, even when he was in situations where he knew he shouldn't. He also noticed that the fall of the blouse hinted at breasts that were the size he liked, not large, smallish and tempting. He tried not to think of this as he waited for her answer, he did not want her to think he was sleazy or anything, even if he did notice these things.

What the hell, Rachel thought, why not.

"Sure," she said, standing up, and smiling at him.

He led her on to the dance floor, the small band was playing a slow song, which meant physical contact of course, and she was pleased that he was the complete gentleman about it. He kept an appropriate distance between their bodies, his right hand stayed on her back, well clear of the belt of her slacks, his left hand in hers felt firm and not all sweaty and yucky like so many hands she had held. Her hand felt soft in his, and he liked the soft touch of her other hand on his waist.

She introduced herself just as Rachel, he told her his name was Lucas, he was pleased there were no rings on her fingers, in fact her whole appearance told him-understated class- he didn't bother telling her what he did for a living, until she asked, when they had sat back down again. This had taken a few minutes, Sonya had disappeared with her Ben, and Rachel didn't really want them joining her and this new man anyway. So they had moved to the bar, where they perched on the stools, and, after he had insisted on buying her a drink-she noticed he was not drinking alcohol, and liked that, so she just asked for a lemon squash too-she had asked him what he did for a living, just as conversation, because she liked him, and did not want things to get awkwardly silent.

At the question, he laughed that kind. soft laugh again.

Well," he said, "A lot of people find this odd, or not quite right, but I actually gamble for a living, horses mostly." He waited for her reaction.

"And are you any good at it?" she asked, and laughed too, to make sure he understood she did not disapprove. She thought it was probably the most exotic thing she had ever heard. Lucas coughed politely.

"Actually, yeah I am," and he laughed again, to cover up any possibility that he may have sounded as if he were boasting, because that was something he just didn't do. "Well, good enough to live comfortably off it anyway." Again the self-effacing laugh. In fact he was very, very good at it, good enough that now it was just a hobby, he had made enough over the last ten years to ensure that he could live very comfortably, and never have to work again. "Beats working in an office, or behind a counter, or driving a truck." Laughed again. "All of which I have done by the way. Good jobs, but at least this way I am my own boss, and the hours are very good." In fact normally this time on a Saturday night he would be at the trots, but he had done so well that afternoon-just two very good bets-that he had decided to stay away. The big money bookies liked him, he respected that they had to make a living too, and he was careful never to push the boundaries, he wasn't a greedy person, not anymore, that was a part of his life he had left behind, when he had stopped working "normally". Maybe later, after this bar closed, he might go to the casino. He hadn't decided yet. But anyway, Rachel was turning out to be such good company that he didn't need to think about what else to do.

Rachel thought he was wonderful company. She had never actually met a man quite like him before. Not once had a hand gone to her knee while they sat talking at the bar, not once when they had gone for another dance had he changed where he put his hands, he had not taken the third or fourth or even fifth dance as an excuse to move that right hand any lower. He was an attentive listener, listened as she explained that this was the weekend her two children spent with their father, she wondered why she had given this little hint that she was alone that night, she was grateful that there was no sign of his eyes lighting up at this vague suggestion of a possible opportunity. Because as far as she was concerned there was no opportunity, she had only just met him. But as the evening went on, she did start to hope that he would ask if there were any chance they could meet again. That was a definite yes, in her mind. Anything else, certainly tonight anyway, was a definite no.

Very soon it was eleven, the bar would be closing in an hour, but she had decided that she would be going now. At Sonya's insistence, she had agreed to come here by taxi, her friend believing that she could get her too drunk to drive home, in fact hoping that Rachel would end up spending the night somewhere else anyway. She felt a little awkward explaining that she had to go and call a taxi, to beat the pub-closing rush on them. What made her feel more awkward was the realization that she wanted him to kiss her-that was all-and that would not be possible.

"Oh no, please, let me drive you home," he insisted, no need to ridiculously explain that his intentions were perfectly honourable. In her eyes, he had already done that.

Her heart leapt at the offer. It would give more chance to talk, more time for him to ask her to dinner or something, she was hoping. And of course, the opportunity to kiss, it seemed so, so long since she had been kissed nicely.

"Well, thank you," she almost sputtered, "but are you sure it won't be too far out of your way?" She felt a bit silly at that, because she lived quite close by.

"No of course not," he replied, and they walked from the bar to the car-park, she noted that he had not used it as an excuse to put his arm around her waist, or hold her hand. In a way, she wished he had held her hand, she thought of taking his, but did not want to spoil things by giving any perhaps false signals.

Lucas for his part would have liked to take her hand as they walked to the car, but he sensed her...fragility...that was the word for it. He definitely intended to ask her to dinner, he had long ago made up his mind on that.

Rachel smiled to herself as Lucas opened the door of the car for her, as he waited while she got herself properly in, as he did not try looking down the top of her blouse as she sat, as he did not let his eyes stray to her thighs in the just above the hip style slacks. Definitely a kiss, she smiled to herself, a nice long gentle kiss. She hoped.

The drive through the leafy well-to-do suburb was not a long one, they chatted about nothing, until she directed him to a driveway, across which was a large gate, which she opened with the use of a little remote. Lucas drove through the gate, and pulled up the car just before the large garage door. Rachel noticed he did not turn the engine off. She felt an odd sense of panic, he was not assuming anything except that she would get out of the car and she would go inside, that was plain. She realised straight away that his politeness would extend even to this often awkward part of an evening. She could not remember the last time she had felt like this, her modesty and fear of rejection held her back from initiating a kiss, but she badly wanted to, and the more she thought about it, the more the want for that kiss increased. She thought of a ploy to keep him here just a little longer, to encourage him to believe that a kiss was more than just possible.

"Would it be all right if I had another cigarette?" she asked, she wasn't a regular smoker, but enjoyed one or two occasionally.

"Of course," Lucas replied. He wanted to kiss her, but was afraid that someone as fragile as she seemed might scare. "I'll turn the engine off." And the way he said it made it sound like he was asking her permission, which he was.

"Sure," Rachel said, as she inhaled on the cigarette, it did nothing to calm her at all. They talked on for that short time that the cigarettes lasted, it was obvious to them both that neither wanted to part just yet, they could both feel a tension growing in the car, until finally Rachel decided that she had been brazen enough, she reached her hand on to his, which was resting on the floor shift, and just held it there for a second as she said, "Well, I guess I better go, thank you for a wonderful evening, I haven't enjoyed myself so much in such a long time..."talking too fast, she knew, but she had to give these hints and she glanced down at her hand on his, thinking that was probably the most forward thing she had ever done in her life, and Lucas glanced down at her hand as well, registering the soft warmth of her palm on the back of his hand, and he said, "I had a wonderful time too," paused for a moment, "I was wondering...would you like to go out to dinner sometime, or...maybe even lunch tomorrow," it would be Sunday and he knew a great seafood place that had excellent Sunday lunches.

Rachel was almost ashamed of the way her heart skipped when he asked her that, and she answered softly, shyly, "Why, lunch tomorrow would be wonderful..." she trailed off, the kids weren't due back until just before dinner time. Their eyes met now, and there is always that moment, especially on a first encounter, when the meeting of the eyes says yes or no. In this case the eyes were in complete agreement, and Rachel, glad she had released the seat-belt when the car first stopped, leant a little towards Lucas, and their lips met, just touching for a moment, just a kiss, Rachel told herself, there is nothing wrong with that.

Lucas knew better than to pressure her, and he let his lips rest on hers, this close she smelt as beautiful as she looked, and her eyes were closed and she appreciated that his lips were closed too, but now that was not enough, and she opened hers, and he recognized the invitation and his lips opened and gently his tongue slid across her lips, and brushed her teeth, and then the tip of his tongue was in her mouth, just a little bit, and her tongue found his, and the two tips introduced themselves to each other, and Rachel felt a strange, long unfamiliar surge through her body, and she pressed her tongue past his into his mouth, and his tongue answered and entered deeper into her mouth, and she took her hand from his and put it around his upper back, and now her tongue flicked around his tongue, exploring him, and Lucas responded, his tongue licking at her teeth, at the insides of her cheeks, now her tongue was doing things she had had no intention of letting it do, but it was wonderful, and he sensed a slight change in her breathing and her breath, and pressed his lips closer onto hers, locking their mouths together, she had beautiful breath and his tongue moved firmly and slowly and gently around her mouth, exploring all the little corners, sliding across her tongue, as she licked and flicked inside his mouth, and her tongue sought deep into the back of his mouth, and his tongue pressed towards the back of her mouth and he sensed the almost desperation with which her mouth clung to his, and her tongue almost seemed to be seeking refuge deep in his mouth, each using their tongues to discover and learn what it could about the other person. Rachel's arm around his back was almost gripping at him, and this was so good, and she could not recall the last time she had enjoyed a kiss like this, and he was a wonderful kisser, and she took a breath but did not want to let this kiss end just yet.

Lucas felt the arousal in his body, told himself to be patient, put his left arm around her, his hand resting on the middle of her back, through the fabric of the blouse he sensed the strap of her bra, let his fingers just rest there, he wanted her-badly now-but knew the rewards of patience, and his tongue rested for a second, just enjoying the intimacy of the kiss.

Ok, Rachel decided, boobs, he can feel my boobs if he wants, that would be ok, and she was bewildered a little by the realization that she wanted him to do that, but there was no denying the trembling in her belly, and the soft, small tingling she was starting to feel deeper down, and her tongue pressed deeper into his mouth again as she moved a little, the floor-shift was kind of in the way, but she managed to at least give the impression of being closer to him as her fingertips stroked at the back of his neck, and he must have been aware of the closeness of her breasts to his chest, and she sensed his hand moving on her back, and she waited expectantly for it to move to her front, she wanted him to do that very much.

His hand was moving, but not in the way she was wanting and half-expecting. Instead, Lucas began moving his fingertips firmly up and down Rachel's spine, pressing softly at each little ridge, all the way to the top of her neck, then back again, down her spine, middle finger on each little bump, as other fingertips massaged into her back, he felt her tremble slightly, fingertips brushed over the strap of the bra, oh please, she moaned inwardly, please undo it, but no, his fingers continued down her back, massaging and tickling at her back through the thin fabric of the blouse. The kiss broke off, and Rachel pressed her face into Lucas's neck, he could feel her breath hot on his neck, and his fingers moved again up her back, slowly, fingertips massaging along her spine, then back down again, and he decided to take a chance, there was something he wanted to do for her.

When Rachel had moved closer to him, leant more to press her face into his shoulder, the hem of her blouse had come free from her slacks, his fingers had sensed the bare skin there, and also that there was now a small gap between the band of the slacks and the skin of her lower back, so close there to the top of what he had observed all evening to be a very nice bum.

Gently he let his fingers continue their little dance down her back, down to the end of the blouse, then his fingers moved slowly onto her back, he placed his hand on her lower back under the blouse, her skin felt beautiful, warm, Rachel trembled a little at the feel of his hand on her back there, she let out a little sigh, and he knew it was all right, she looked up at him and smiled, and then she moved herself up a bit, their lips met again, again her tongue entered his mouth, and his tongue embraced hers, and they kissed deeply again.

By moving as she had, Lucas's hand had slid lower down her back, his little finger was now actually inside her slacks, and the tip of it could feel the brushing of the fabric of her undies as she moved. Very slowly, very gently, but also very firmly, his other fingers began massaging and kneading and pressing and stroking at Rachel's lower back, his thumb pressing into the flesh on one side of her spine, his middle finger tickling at her lower vertebra, his little finger scratching at the fabric of her undies, going a little past just the elastic band of them, just sensing the hint of the top of the crack of her bum, his little finger inside the undies now just that little bit. Rachel trembled again, she could feel a building deep in her belly, what was he doing to her.