Living Single!

It had stirred me as well, and if she hadn't set a time on when she'd be back I'd have taken her again. But we both held off the temptation, and we both got dressed. She kissed me at the door. "Thank you again. That was the best massage ever." And she turned and purposefully walked to her car, waving as she pulled away.

I watched her drive off and was lost in thought for a moment. It'd been a lot of fun, particularly coaxing her through her hesitations, but I wondered what the point had been. It almost felt like a random sex encounter, and while that wasn't the worst thing in the world, I felt a little disappointed. There was nothing there, and never would be. Just off how good it had been, I'd have sex with her again, but she'd get more out of it than I would. Which made me wonder if I was starting to want someone where it could be something more than just sex - as amazing as it was with the women I was sleeping with. 11 married - no, make that 12 now, and only a couple who were single.

I thought ahead to tomorrow night - Terri and I were meeting at 7, and it seemed likely that we'd have another absolutely torrid night - if our first meeting had been anything to go by. And realized I needed to text Lauren. I decided to just send her the reservation to the Brown Palace, so pulled it up and forwarded it to her.

A minute later she replied "!" and a minute later with "And . . .?"

"You won! Looking forward to Wednesday . . . " adding the devil face emoji.

"Oh, come on! Deets!" I noted the imperative and not the interrogatory.

"Hmmmm. Let me just say that she loved her special massage. And that she left saying she felt liberated and empowered."

A moment went by, and I could see Lauren typing. And then a whole row of the thumbs-up emoji.

"That's how you make ME feel," she wrote. My heart swelled. "That's why I wanted you to fuck Julie - to give her a chance to feel that way too."

I sent back the big smile emoji - five of them. "You just made my night telling me that . . . "

And then: "Gotta go - Trevor back." Followed by the kissing emoji - again, a whole row.

"Night!"

Well. That was something I'd never even thought of. I'd been too busy reveling in the amazing sex to think past that at all. It made me feel great, like there was a point to it for Lauren, and likely others, beyond physical gratification. And I wondered for a second if Terri was single. Damn, life could get very complicated very quickly!

While Julie had been a good lover, she wasn't nearly as physical as Lauren or Terri or Jill or Angie and Tracy. So I wasn't nearly as tired, which was good, as I expected to Terri to totally wear me out Saturday night - to the point that I'd blocked off Sunday and Monday nights. And I couldn't wait.

Saturday rolled by lazily, and I headed down to Sully's in plenty of time to park and get to the bar by 7. I claimed two barstools and sat on one, watching the door. Sure enough, right at 7 Terri walked in, and, to the accompaniment of men's necks snapping around, spotted me and walked - no, danced - over. She stopped in front of me, a severe look on her face.

"Is this open?" She was trying to do the same haughty attitude she'd started with, but her eyes gave it away.

"I'm saving it for the brilliant beautiful passionate woman I met last week," I said, trying to keep it going.

"Well, hell, mind if I claim her spot?"

"I'd be offended if you didn't," and then she gave me that smile and we hugged, kissing briefly before sitting down.

"How was your week?" I asked, figuring I'd jump in first.

She looked like the question caught her out, which I hadn't seen before. "Long."

"Work?"

"No. Work is easy. It was a long time to wait." That was the most . . . vulnerable I'd seen her - and, yeah, I know, that didn't seem very vulnerable in the grand scheme of things. But coming from her, who gave every outward appearance of being in total command, it did.

"I can relate, if it makes you feel any better. And that's one of the nicest things I've heard. Now I just need to not screw it up tonight." I grinned at her. "So what would you like to drink?"

She ordered the same vodka martini, specifying the highest grade vodka they had. I again took the bait and ordered an 18 year old Macallan single malt.

"Well, at least you're consistent with your drink choices. Does it carry over?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye as she consciously replayed some of our initial back and forth at the bar when I'd said he wasn't coming.

"You can judge for yourself - see what you think."

"Well, you showed up and weren't even tardy. That's a start - more than Arn could manage."

"Was that the 6'3" Norse god you were supposed to meet?"

"Damn, you remembered. Yeah, that was him. Want to put a bet on whether he contacted me after that?"

"Hmmmm. I'd bet yes."

"Yeah, you'd be right. Said he was sorry we couldn't hook up that night and wanted to know about Wednesday."

"That sounds about right," I said. "Did you go for it?"

She snorted. "FUCK no." (I swear I could hear each capital letter.) "No one gets to stand me up and then 'hook up' (in air quotes). Besides, I told him I met someone infinitely more interesting." She turned her head to see how I'd react.

"OK, I'll risk being labeled a narcissist. I'm flattered. And I'd say the same."

She chuckled a little. "Well, that's the most self-awareness from any man I've talked to in forever. Bonus point." She sipped her drink. "Do you think you have enough quarters and dimes in your sofa for dinner?"

I laughed - she had remembered. "Good memory. Yeah, I think if I check the La-Z-Boy we can do that. Good thing - I'm famished! Here or get a table?"

"Table." I nodded and waved down the bartender, asking for the tab and for a table. This time the hostess remembered us from last week, and we found ourselves in a cozy booth.

"Nice! Do they know you here? Bring all your 'interesting' dates here?"

"I never bring anyone here," I said softly. "This is usually a place just for me, or for me and my friend Ted. Who, you might appreciate, actually practices law for a living." That made her crack a smile.

"Ooohh, does that make me special?" There was a hint of an edge underneath the words.

I paused. "Yes. Just in case you didn't know."

That actually gave her pause. "Wow, a direct answer. And thank you, because I don't know 'special' for you."

"And I for you, for that matter. I'll guess yes, or you wouldn't be here - you could have chalked up Sunday to an intense fling."

She smiled. "Are you always this 'meta'? But you're right and wrong. I could have thought of Sunday as the best one-night stand ever. But that was FAR too good to wave away."

"What part of that was meta? And, yeah, me too."

"You're really thoughtful about all of this - sex, dating, women . . . "

"Interesting subjects to me." I let it go at that. "Speaking of, I don't even know if you live here or just here all the time on business."

She laughed at that. "True. We didn't exactly engage in a lot of 'hello, who are you?,' did we?" She looked off in the distance for a second. "No, I live here - Cherry Creek North. A cliché for sure - the other senior partners are either there or in Cherry Hills Village or Greenwood Village. You? You said you travel occasionally for the military."

"Here also. Over by the old airport. Your house is probably nicer than mine."

She cocked her head. "Eh, maybe. Cost me enough - two marriages, putting kids through hell . . . " She shook her head. "So when I seem like a bitch, that's why."

"Sorry to hear. I can empathize some - one marriage, one kid through hell, but he seems OK. The worst year for him was the year I got deployed to Iraq - back in 2009."

"What were you doing in Iraq?"

"I can't say a lot, but I was the team lead for people who would go try to find people that people from the government wanted to 'interview.' Long year."

She raised an eyebrow. "Sounds scary."

"Yep, that's about right. So anyway - you're a senior enough partner you don't have to travel much?"

"Yes. Never liked that part." She let Iraq go. "I'm the prettiest face, so I do a lot of the public facing work - PR, politics, all that."

"Prettiest face is easy to believe - can't imagine a prettier one."

She was actually tongue-tied for a moment, and finally said, simply, "thank you."

Our salads arrived (we'd ordered somewhere in there) and we plowed in, chatting as we did. Our entrees arrived shortly after, along with wine, and the wine steward made the typical show about opening the bottle, presenting the cork, which I pointed to her, and then pouring a taste and awaiting the verdict - which was, needless to say, positive.

I lifted my glass. "Well. To making the most of completely random meetings!" We toasted and drank. She actually laughed a little bit, and murmured something I couldn't quite make out.

"What? Sorry, I missed that," I said.

She laughed again and raised her glass. "I said, 'and to fucking like rabbits."

"I'll definitely drink to that!" And so we did.

The food was always terrific, and tonight was no different. It was fun chatting and bantering back and forth, and seeing her actually relax some in public. We took our time eating, and declined the waitresses offer of dessert, Terri actually cracking a smile.

"So I think my line is something like 'Want to get out of here?' And yours is . . ."

"Yes," she said, cutting me off. She also managed to slip a credit card into the check folder without even looking at it, and silencing me with a look. "You got the drinks and room last time. My turn - my pleasure."

"Well, thank you - that was delicious. Did you drive?"

"Oh, hell no - I knew I'd have a cocktail and wine. You?"

I nodded. "Yep."

"OK, well, let's go see what bucket of bolts you brought," she kidded with a smile.

We went out and the valet retrieved my car, opening the door for her to climb in and closing it after her. I tipped the valet, and got in the driver's seat. I had a year old Honda Accord, which was definitely slumming it for her.

"OK, I take back the bucket of bolts line. Competent. Your house. Go."

I laughed at her order, and we got there in about 20 minutes. I pulled into the garage, and she could see my project car - an older BMW M3.

"OK, that's the bucket of bolts. I use the Honda when I want to know everything will work when I press the button."

She nodded, seeing my road bike and mountain bike hanging, skis propped against the wall, etc. And I'm sure she saw the three olive green duffel bags, marked "A," "B," and "C."

"Please tell me you aren't going to ask me to go camping."

"Nope, you're safe from that. A Marriott is close enough for me, unless the Army really decides I need to take a trip for them."

She gave an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Whew! Worried for a minute I was going to have to call an Uber."

I opened the door to the first floor, and we took off our shoes - moderately tall heels for her, shiny black Ecco's for me. I gave her the quick tour, and she commented on the floor to ceiling windows on one wall and on the tallish speakers in the living/great room.

"Do they work?" she asked.

I chuckled and hit "play" on a remote, and some sexy electronica started playing. Well, I thought it was sexy electronica - it was the same playlist I'd played for Julie the night before.

She recognized the first track immediately. "Wow - Ulrich Schnauss. I'm impressed."

So was I. "Glad you like him. I do too. OK, what can I get you as a nightcap. Water is a given. And I've got . . . "

She put her hand on my arm, and I shut up. "Just water is great."

"You got it," I said, even if I didn't want to move her hand off my arm.

I poured a couple large glasses of water and motioned her to the couch to join me, putting our water glasses on the coffee table, sitting next to her. We both reached for water at the same time, saw it, and laughed. And as we reached them, we both pivoted and tried to let the other drink out of our glass, kinda like at a wedding where the bride and groom hold each others glass and tilt it for them to drink. It actually worked - we both took a healthy drink from the others' glass and managed to set them back down, arms intertwined, laughing a little bit that we'd had the same thought at the same time and actually pulled it off.

The next thing I knew I was pulling her to me, finding her lips with mine, kissing her softly, feeling her instantly respond, and then I was pushing her over, laying her on the couch, kissing, kissing, feeling her hands on my back, her tongue melding with mine, our lips dancing, brushing against each other, dancing again, then harder and harder as our tongues danced and sang. And then I was pulling her up off the couch, taking her hand, leading her to my bedroom, unzipping and lifting her dress off her perfect body, seeing her before me in a tiny bra and thong, and she was lifting my shirt off me, breaking our kiss just long enough to toss it away, and her fingers were undoing my belt and button and zipper, one of my hands on her back and the other trailing down to her perfect ass, squeezing, and then she was pushing my slacks down and off.

As she stood back up, our eyes locked onto each other's. I felt my hand undo the clasp on her bra and felt it loosen, moving the straps and seeing and feeling her perfect breasts against me. And at the same time her hand went to my briefs and tugged them down, reaching down to stroke my aching cock and to release it, pushing them down and off, feeling me step out of them. It was my turn, and reached down to push her thong down and off, our eyes locked the entire time, and then I was laying her down on the bed, climbing on top of her, her hands pulling my head to hers, her lips seeking out mine, grazing them, locking on them, kissing me hard, feeling her passion and her desire.

The way we kissed could have started a proverbial fire. I moved between her legs and felt her heat, my cock sliding on her, over her already drenched folds and slit, back and forth. The tip of my cock was slippery from her juice, and found itself to her opening. And this time, I took my time, letting my cock explore every inch, reveling in her moaning with pleasure as we slowly coupled. Just like our first time, I couldn't quite get all of my cock inside her, though based on our first night together that would change. I groaned in ecstasy as she squeezed me with her strong vaginal muscles, and moved around a little to stimulate her further.

We stopped kissing as I bottomed out inside her, staring at each other, our eyes on fire, her hands firmly on my ass holding me in deep. We lay like that for a little bit - who knows how long, really, right? - and then we started our rhythm, picking up speed, sliding in and out of what I had to say was the best feeling pussy or cunt (choose your term!) I'd ever felt. It was just . . . perfect, a word I've probably used too much to describe her. But she had the best combination of pressure, movement, wetness, and a certain . . . 'je ne sais quoi' that I'd ever felt.

And she amped it up even more with her running egging me on comments, which made me both want her even more and made me respond in kind - a kind of positive feedback loop. We were both past needing to hold off orgasm, so we could just enjoy. She came first, with a shriek and body convulsions that started from deep in her body, her arms flailing, eyes unseeing - and that was about when she sent me over the edge, in a similar fashion.

I felt my balls empty, semen racing down my shaft to spurt into her, hot white sticky fluid leaping out of me, spraying her cervix, painting her walls white, feeling her react to the shot of pressure and heat, both of us giving a primal cry as filled her with my seed, claiming her as my own as she claimed me for her. We lay coupled deeply, for a while. And as we both came back to each other, she was the first to be able to speak.

"So it wasn't just beginner's luck last time," she said, and started laughing, which made me laugh, which encouraged her, and onwards. Pretty soon we were laughing so hard I slid out of her with an audible whoosh and lying on our sides facing each other.

"I guess not!" I said back.

"Thank god - for a minute I was worried," she said, teasingly. She felt semen leaking and looked down, seeing it dribble down across her thigh and onto the mattress. "Although if we keep that up I'm going to start doubting that you're not trying to knock me up."

"Hmmmm . . . I am . . . equipped if needed," glancing at my nightstand.

She gave a soft laugh. "Oh, hell no. It feels WAY too good when you cum in me. I love it. I was leaking for days. Love that feeling. Worried?"

I shook my head and smiled. "Nope."

She gave me the 'tell me more' look I was already familiar with.

"You feel WAY too good to put anything in between. As for worried, well, if it can happen, and does happen, I always figure it would happen no matter what. And we're both at an age where it'd be unlikely anyway . . . "

She laughed that soft laugh again as I trailed off. "Well, that's for sure. It was tough getting pregnant with my daughter. And, if it does, I'll just take it as a miracle sign that it's supposed to. Just don't hold your breath!"

My turn for a soft laugh. "Fair enough. But I want to spend the rest of the night making you doubt it."

She smiled back. "You are on. What's the most times you've cum in one night?"

"Seven in one night, nine in 24 hours."

"Holy shit - really? Now that's my goal - something to aspire to! How many did we hit Sunday?"

"Five, I think," I said, mentally counting. "And I'm sorry to say I don't have any idea for you, except 'more than five.' And yeah, that's a good goal. Even if I know you'll make it."

"You think?"

"Oh, for fucks sake, do you know how much you turn me on? I spent the week counting down. And not just for sex."

She gave me a piercing look. "Really? What else?"

"Want a list?"

"Oh, this should be interesting . . . yes, if you're offering."

"Banter. Wit. Intelligence. Drive. Decisiveness. Vulnerability. Passion. There. How's that?"

"No one has ever said that to me before," she said quietly. "Thank you."

"You did ask. I'll always tell you the truth, even if I know you won't like it."

"Same. Sometimes without you asking."

"All the better," I said back.

"OK, so truth - I want us to spend the rest of the night and the morning fucking our brains out." And she reached for my quickly hardening cock . . .

The night and morning went exactly as she said she wanted - if we slept more than a couple of hours I'd be shocked. By the time we woke up to sunlight streaming through the linen curtains, we were both completely spent - too tired and sore to couple again, settling for tender kissing and holding, as even our lips and mouths were worn out.

For my part, I was taken aback at how comfortable it was waking up with her - that dark hair splashed out on my chest and pillow, the feel of her skin on my body, her arm spread across me, one of her legs nestled between mine. Don't get me wrong - it was great waking up with Tracy and Angie, and with Lauren, and . . . but this was just . . . different. More relaxed. More . . . together. More . . . better.

She woke with a soft moan of pleasure. "Oh, man, do you feel good," she murmured. One of my hands was caressing her back. I could almost feel her eyes close again as she soaked it in. "Mmmmmmm . . . you can do that anytime," she said dreamily. "Even better . . . all the time."

"Any time you want," I murmured. "You have great skin." And she did.

"My ex was pretty critical. Hypocrite. 'You should lose a few pounds - looks like you're ass is a little bigger.' Or tummy. Or thighs. Or 'do you want to do augmentation?' He was a total asshole that way."