Making Time for Sex

When I felt his body slide into bed beside me, my eyes opened enough to see the time on the alarm clock: 5:10am. Andy must have left work and drove swiftly to get home that soon, which meant he was beyond tired. I had been sleeping on my side, naked, waiting, so I backed my body up against him just to feel his warmth. I rolled toward him and rested my hand on his chest to feel his breath rise and fall. He took my hand in his, kissed it, and fell asleep.

There's this numb frustration you get when you want someone so badly but you love them enough to let them be when they are exhausted--and Andy had been overworked since before we got married. We were like rabbits the first few months, fucking when we woke up and often fucking when he got in late. I had gotten used to him sliding into bed naked, saddling up behind me, massaging my ass, reaching around to fondle my tits, and then sliding himself into me so smoothly. But those days had been over for some time.

That numb frustration kept me awake. "No, it won't always be like this." "Yes, he wants you, but he's tired." "No, this isn't going to end your marriage." "Yes, he still loves you even if you don't have sex everyday." And then I started thinking about the last time we had sex. I pulled my phone off the bedside table and checked the calendar. Two weeks? How was that even possible?

I worshipped this man. I loved the way he held my hand as he slept--still gripping it even though he was fast asleep. He never asked me for anything, and he was so grateful for everything I gave him. I wanted to give him the world.

Immediately after work the next day, I called Andy and told him that I had arranged for food to be delivered at 7pm from the Plaza Restaurant. It was crucial that he be able to meet the delivery person in the main lobby; he couldn't send someone else to pick up the delivery. He was so thrilled because I'd never ordered food to be delivered before. (For one, he always insisted on taking leftovers because delivery was inexpensive, and two, although I did a lot of sweet things for him, I'd never done anything so extravagant. We'd been a budget since we met, always forgoing dining out if we could eat cheaper at home. And it just defeated the purpose of Andy working late if we blew the money on frivolous things.)

On my way home I stopped by my friend Amy's house to borrow one of her work uniforms from the Plaza Restaurant's bar. I wanted to dress the part: a black skirt, a sleeveless tuxedo shirt, and a black bow tie. The waitresses at the Plaza were always so sexy.

Amy invited me in and insisted I try on the outfit so she could check me out. The tuxedo blouse was more of a sheer gauze, and I could see the black lacy swirls from my bra through it. I felt so attractive when I slid the short, tight black skirt up my hips. Amy pulled out three pairs of black high heels and I picked the pair with faux zippers up the heel.

At 6:45 I did swing by the Plaza Restaurant and pick up Chicken Marsala to go, so I wasn't completely lying. When I pulled into the parking garage of Andy's building, I texted Amy. From there, she used the Plaza service to contact Andy and let him know that his food delivery had arrived.

I entered the foyer of the building and waited. Afterhours, the doors were locked to the lobby. Inside, the lights were dimmed to half their normal brightness. My heart had been beating progressively harder all day. Now, in the stillness of the foyer, I prayed everything would go as planned. A million scenarios entered my mind--all of them ways things could go wrong--but I just hoped Andy would be receptive, that he'd have a little time to spare, that no one would catch me, that I didn't trip over my own feet, and most importantly that I'd be able to stop time for about fifteen minutes. Just fifteen minutes. That's all I asked . . . all I needed.

When Andy stepped off the elevator, his mind was somewhere else. He walked toward the foyer door with a look of stoicism, just putting one foot in front of the other on a mission to knock one more out. He opened the door, stood tall looking down at me, and forced a smile. He did not recognize me inside Amy's uniform at first. And then when he saw my face, he really saw me, and he slowed down. Time slowed down. Everything but my heartbeat slowed down. Our eye contact lasted a second and it lasted forever.

In an instant he put everything together and had to look away from me toward the space beyond my shoulder, surveying for witnesses. He held the door completely open and made way for me to enter. "Ma'am, will you follow me?" His voice was deep, slightly flippant, slightly giving away his cool.

He walked me into the elevator where we rode up several floors without speaking or looking at the other. I felt like my heart was pounding so hard that he could see it. We walked out into a hallway, through a set of doors that he unlocked with his ID card, over halfway down another hallway, and into a dark conference room.

We both entered the room completely. He took the bag of food from me, sat it at the head of the shiny wood conference table, and took my hand and led me toward the other end of the table. To the rear, a wide window with blinds was mostly closed, but I could see through to the blinds to all of his colleagues sitting in front of computers. Because of the dark, they couldn't see us, but I could make out most of their faces if I moved vertically.

Andy reached out his hands, wrapped them around my waist, and pulled me to his chest. When he looked down at me, his lips parted slightly as he inhaled. But he didn't kiss me. I had forgotten this old trick. He was going to tease me deliriously.

His hands ran over my ass through my skirt. Slowly, his fingers gathered my skirt slightly, one inch at a time until he'd managed to get the hem up to my waist. His hands rubbed my bare ass with one hand while he slid his other hand around to the front of my skirt. He searched with his fingers to find my wetness. "No panties, huh?" He wasn't asking, just verbally pointing out what he'd physically discovered. "Naughty girl," he said half-satisfied and half-teasing with punishment.

His face was still close to mine, and we were both breathing in sync onto the other's lips. I ran my fingers through his short black hair just above his ear until my fingers were in a position to lightly pull his lips into my lips. He paused short of my lips, still teasing by resisting my lips. I felt his chest heave as he breathed. Then he pressed his lips against mine hungrily.

The kiss caused me to stop breathing entirely. It was passionate, and it said several different things at once: "I missed you, I want you entirely, I'm going to choose you for the rest of my life, You are mine, I am yours" . . . and as he pulled back so just the tips of our lips were touching, the kiss said: "I am about to fuck the shit out of you and fill you with my cum."

"You want this, baby?" he asked and took one of my hands down to feel him through his pants.

Forcefully, he spun me around to face the conference table and my arms slapped down onto the shiny wood surface in response.

His belt buckle rattled, he unzipped his pants, and I could distinctly hear them collapse on the floor around his shoes. Then I felt his big, hard cock against my pussy, the tip slowly slowly sliding up and down my wetness, from my clit to the bottom edge of my pussy. He easily penetrated me with the head of his cock. He felt so hard I thought I could feel it throbbing even though it wasn't even inside me yet.

"You sure you want this?" he asked. I moaned positively, begging, but he just teased me, rubbing me with his cock.

"I don't think you want this," he teased.

"Please?" I begged. I wanted him so badly I was squirming. He plunged so deeply into me I gasped in pleasure. I literally felt my eyes roll back in my head, and I felt dizzy and weightless and completely vulnerable.

He plunged into me again and again, holding my hips with his hands and quietly moaning about how good it felt to be inside me. He slowed down teasingly, grasping a hunk of my hair in his fist and pulling my head toward him. He easily reached around and kissed my neck, biting just a touch to let me know how badly his hunger for me was.

He was rock hard. I hadn't felt that intensity since the very beginning of our relationship. He pounded my pussy so hard I couldn't catch my breath. My mouth felt dry from all the moaning and deep breathing I was doing in response to the pleasure. That level of pleasure was instantly addictive. Crazed, all I wanted was his cock inside me forever, for this feeling to be a fixed element.

"God--baby--you feel--so fucking--good," he said as he fucked me harder. "Are you ready for my cum?"

I wanted to say no so he'd have to keep fucking me, but I wanted his sweet cum inside my pussy--his cum and my pussy together. I wanted to hear him lose control with desire. "Fuck me harder!" I demanded perhaps a bit too loudly.

When he came, he came fast and hard, fucking me without regard as to whether anyone heard him. He collapsed onto me, bracing himself with one arm on the conference table alongside my arm. He finally turned me around, embraced me, and gave me one long kiss. I wiped the sweat off his forehead.

He pulled my skirt down and smoothed it out as best he could in his spent condition. "You're going to have something running down your leg, sweetheart." He took my head in his strong hands and kissed my forehead.

We stepped away from the table. "Uh oh." I pointed to the hand prints I'd left on the conference table, smears of palm and fingers and sweat. We smiled coyly at each other and laughed.

He walked me to the elevator, and I asked reluctantly if he minded if I rode down alone. "You have to pull yourself together before you go back in there," I said, nodding toward his office. "I'll take care of me," I said walking into the elevator.

He held onto the elevator door, keeping it from shutting, and leaned it. "Oh, no. I'm taking care of you--when I get home." And he kissed me one last time with his eyes closed. "Thanks, baby."

I ran my hand over the front of his pants so I could feel him one last time. "My pleasure entirely," I quipped, then I pushed him back softly so the doors would close.