Late Night Liaison

I met him two weeks ago, during a Tea & Talk event. His blue eyes were what struck me first, they looked like melting glaciers, but the warmth lying in the blue depths was intensely intimate and startling. It was hard to tear my eyes from his. As we lurched into our group discussion, he proved himself more than just a pretty face, revealing himself as clever, considered and an easy conversationalist; he treated all ideas as valid and respected the diversity of the individuals who made up our team. I felt a connection with him right away and, when he caught my hand at the end of the night and asked me for my number, I knew the feeling was mutual. We started texting that night and hadn't stopped. Day and night, it was an endless volley of texts back and forth, rapidly leaving the comfortable confines of friendship and becoming something more. Serendipitously, it turned out that we both worked at the same place: he worked on the first floor of the City Hospital as a researcher; I worked on the fifth floor as a therapist.

Which is where I was at the moment, stuck in the grasp of a very long work day; I was glad my week was almost over. My phone, on the desk beside my computer, buzzed with a text: "Hey Beautiful. Are you at work?"

I smiled despite myself. We were both married to our jobs, spending more time within this building than outside of its walls. I typed out my reply: "You know it. I'm always here 🙄😋. What are you up to?"

It was late, 11:15pm. Ideally I would have left by now, but the pandemic had left a lot of people reeling and I felt it was my duty to squeeze as many people into my day as possible. I had finished seeing patients hours ago, but the paperwork afterwards was a bitch and took a very long time to complete. I saved my notes on the chart and stretched at my desk while I waited for him to reply. It didn't take long: "I'm here too but I'm bored and tired. I need to wait an hour for my project to gel before I can finish up for the day."

"I have three charts left to finish up, but I'm losing focus too. I got here at 830 this morning," I replied, rubbing my eyes as I realised just how long my day had become.

"... I don't suppose you would want to come and visit me down here? A walk would do you good 😋" The text surprised me; despite working in the same place, we had never met up outside of the cafeteria.

"Sure, why not. I need to stretch. Where?" Standing from my desk, I grabbed my keys and locked my office. The walk to the elevator was short, but my body protested such movement after hours of sitting.

My phone buzzed as I stepped onto the elevator and hit 1. "First floor, go to neurology. My office is 1.N.505 (second door to your left)."

The elevator ride was quick and I didn't have much of a walk on this floor either; neurology was right below my unit. As I meandered down the corridor looking for his office, I looked around at the pictures of neurons and slices of the brain decorating the corridor.

"Hey you. You found it!" he was perched on the corner of his desk. Brown hair was thinning at the top, but the look suited his features and only served to accentuate his lean and long body. His office was decorated with stress balls that looked like the brain and shelves of textbooks. I smiled nervously, hovering around the doorway. Our connection was so new, it was hard to tell where we were - what we were. "It wasn't so difficult to find."

"Come in, please," he opened his arms for a hug. I stepped over the threshold and went to him. Stepping between his legs, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and rested my head there. I could feel his warmth through my scrubs; I always found myself cold when I worked nights and today was no exception. He felt wonderful. As I stepped closer to him, his legs closed gently around mine and his strong arms held my torso tightly. He smelled of sweat and sterile corridors. Perhaps it wasn't the hallmark sexy scent, but it did something to me. The musk, unique only to him, paired with the scent of research made me think of dreamers and doers, of leaders and discovery.

His head moved and, when I turned to look at him, he placed his lips to mine in a featherlight touch. His kiss was soft and gentle, relaxed and reverent; it felt like he had all the time in the world for this tender moment. His right hand stroked up and down my spine as his left hand settled on my waist. My nerves woke up with his touch, my lips pressing back hungrily against his. I licked at the soft pink skin, seeking entry to his mouth.

After a moment, his lips retreated from mine and he rubbed the tip of his nose against mine. "I'm glad you came for a visit," his voice was soft on the still air; the only other sound in his office was the quiet hum from his machines across the corridor.

I rested my forehead against his. "It's good to see you again. I missed your face." My right hand moved up his neck into the hair at his nape. As I ran the strands through my fingers, I could smell the eucalyptus from his shampoo. "You smell good." I smiled shyly, blushing. I nuzzled my cheek against his and felt his breath on my ear.

"So do you," his tongue licked my earlobe. "I know it's only been two weeks but,..." his teeth caught my earlobe, gently but firmly. "I feel this pull to you. I think about you all the time." His voice was a quiet murmer in the air, sensual and seductive, pulling me to him. His left hand splayed against the small of my back as his right hand caught my ponytail and tipped my head to the side.

"I feel it too," my voice was husky, sentence ending in a sigh as he nipped his way forward along my jaw.

He kissed down the line of my neck before finding the hollow of my collarbone. "I want you," the sentiment was simple, but he shifted on the desk and, against the crevice of my hip, I suddenly felt the hard ridge in his pants.

I hummed in surprised delight, my forehead coming to rest against his shoulder as his lips continued their exploration of my neck. "I want you too."

Pulling back, his blue eyes met my green irises, his look intense and intent. "I'd like to touch you."

I nibbled the inside of my upper lip before whispering, "Please".

Gathering me into his arms, his lips found mine in an urgent hot kiss, vastly different from our last. His mouth was demanding, his tongue seeking, claiming. Pushing up from the desk, he guided me backwards; I put my faith in him, but rested my hands on his upper arms to keep me steady as I lost myself to this moment. The backs of my knees hit something soft and I fell from his arms, tumbling back onto something cushiony. Glancing around me, I realized I was on a couch. Deep green and clearly aged, I hadn't noticed it when I came into the office.

A second later he was on his knees in front of me. His hands ran down my arms and rested gently on top of my thighs. "My department is empty right now,..." he gazed into my eyes. "I'd like to take your shirt off." His body stilled while he waited for my reply.

I quirked a smile and raised my arms; he responded by pulling off my scrub top with one flourishing drag. My bra was navy, patterned with black and gold markings; my breasts soft and pale between the cups. His eyes tracked over my chest for a long moment, drinking in the sight, before flickering to mine. "You're gorgeous."

I blushed and reached behind my back to unclasp my bra. "Then I guess you'd better have a proper look."

His calloused fingers grazed my shoulders as he slipped the straps from my shoulders. Trailing fingertips down my upper arms, he latched on to the sides of my cups and tugged, the material falling to my lap before being cast aside. His eyes widened, riveted to my ample bosom. Watching him was like watching a moth to a light, the gravitational pull of my orbs too much for him to resist. His palms landed lightly on my ribs, but he pushed me firmly back into the couch as they swept up, grabbing my tits.

As my breasts were smooshed together, he rained kisses down on the sensitive skin. The five o'clock shadow he was sporting was coarse and left trails of tingles in its wake. His fingers simultaneously pinched both of my nipples before his lips closed over my left peak.

His mouth was warm and welcome on the aching bud, a low needy sound reverberating from deep in my throat. I relaxed back onto the couch, closing my eyes, as his tongue licked and flicked over the nub in alternation with gentle sucking. Unprompted wetness slid from my pussy, dampening my panties, as my fingers stroked over his head and upper body.

He continued to massage the mounds of my chest as he nipped my nipple hard enough to sting. My shocked intake of air was coupled to the movement of him abandoning my left peak in favour of the right. As that nub warmed in his mouth and the other cooled in the still air, I whimpered, my fingers turning to claws on his shoulder blades. His lips kissed a heady trail up my chest and over my jaw to my lips. My mouth parted for him and our tongues met in a clash of passion. His body lowered to mine and his shirt flittered over my bare skin, the material leaving featherlight touches over the expanse of my base skin, eliciting shivers under his touch.

My palms ran over his shoulders, fingertips pausing at the top button of his shirt. His lips left mine for a fraction of a second to growl, "yes," before his mouth returned to devour mine.

It was difficult to concentrate on unbuttoning his shirt as his palms and fingertips continued familiarising themselves with my breasts. Three, four buttons later, I gave up and tugged pointedly on the fabric. Smiling against my lips, he drew back from me, making efficient work of his buttons and drawing off his shirt.

"Is this what you wanted?" I barely heard his breathy baritone as my eyes danced over his exposed chest. He was fit without being excessive, his areolas and nipples a chestnut brown against his honey coloured skin. The dusting of Havana brown hair started on his upper chest and continued down past his waistband. He leaned closer to me, the movement directing my eyes back to his. "Do you like what you see?"

I hummed my delight and pressed my lips to his neck, my palms splaying over his warm chest, fingers running through the downy hair there. Suddenly drawing back, I looked at him intensely. "Make love to me. Now. Here." If it was a demand or a question, I couldn't say. It didn't matter. All that mattered was getting his body on mine.

He laid me down on the couch, his body settling over mine. I could feel his hard cock through his pants, pressing against my core. He began to move on top of me, the layers of material rubbing against my sensitised skin. I ran my hands over his body, greedily exploring every inch I could reach as his hips humped against mine. Our breathing grew heavier, harder and it wasn't long until my voice broke the quiet. "More."

His body left mine at the command, fingers hooking in the waistband of my scrubs and panties, tugging them down and off in one motion. He removed his pants, leaving his satin boxers on his hips, and came back to my open arms. Covering my body with his, the feeling of his hard, hot head under the satin, pressing against my folds, was exquisite. As before, he began to move on top of me. This time, however, I could feel his head nudging against my opening with every press down of his hips. As the urgency began to build, the need unfurling through my body, I felt my decorum fall away, being replaced with something much more primal. Words left my brain as I felt an overwhelming desire to mark him as mine. Nails digging into his upper back, I pulled his body closer to my skin as I started nipping at his shoulder. What began as gentle love bites, became harder and more urgent as the satin between us dampened and the need grew beyond control.

The side of his head nuzzled mine to the right, the access allowing him to nip and lick at my neck. "Say yes," he growled against my ear as he pressed his penis pointedly against my pussy.

"Yes," I managed in reply, the word a breathless surrender.

Rather than leaving the comfort of my body, he slipped a hand between us and freed his erection from his shorts. This time, when he pressed the swollen tip to my lips, I whimpered and opened my legs further, inviting his entry. As the top of his length penetrated my opening, his lips found my ear. "I think you're amazing," his words were soft and his breathing ragged as he slowly stroked forward, steadily submerging his shaft in my sex. "You are kind and strong," between his girth stretching my pussy and his warm whispers in my ear, I dug my fingers into his back and surrendered to the sensations coursing through my body. Halfway buried now, he continued his promulgation of pleasure, "You are smart and fearless. I admire you." My back arched, head tipping back, hips rising to meet him, needing and demanding the full pleasure of complete penetration. "I care about you. I want to make you happy." As if putting the punctuation in, he slid home as he finished speaking.

Sighing a low moan, we hesitated as time stood still, a moment caught in amber. Our hearts beat as one, our hard heavy breathing a symphony of sound. Rolling my head back toward him, I nuzzled his head, planting a kiss on his collarbone before whispering his name.

As if flicking a switch, he began to move on top of me, a machine coming to life. His strokes were strong and sure, my pussy wet and welcoming. We came together like our bodies were adjacent puzzle pieces. Soft smacking of flesh on flesh joined the midnight music of panting breaths; the symphony sung by sighs and cries of gratification. He offered my name in reverence to the night, I returned his name in breathless deference to his being.

The pleasure ignited every nerve in my body, forcing my breathing into a sharp and staccato crescendo; my body went taut under his, balanced on the verge of orgasm. His breathing had become a chorus of sound.

Inexorably, he groaned my name as I shouted his, both of us coming undone in perfect synchrony. As his shaft spasmed, my pussy pulsated, each of us lengthening the pinnacle of pleasure for the other.

He recovered before me, his fingertips across my cheek and forehead brushing my dishevelled hair from my face. As my eyes refocused on my surroundings, I became aware of his blue eyed gaze on my face and a relaxed half smile of a man at ease. Despite my lingering shyness, my green eyes met his with a languid smile of my own.

"You're incredible," his voice had returned to its natural timbre, a trace of huskiness faint in the sound.

"You are much too kind," I worried my lower lip with my teeth for a moment. "I care about you too. I like you a lot. This, what we have, is amazing."

He pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, my cheek, my forehead. "I suppose it's too late for food, plus we both have work to finish..." he looked thoughtful for a second. "How about breakfast in the morning? There's a family run diner close to here that makes the most amazing waffles."

I kissed the side of his neck, breathing deeply and smiling against his skin. "That sounds wonderful."