Reconnecting

I knew my hand had drifted lower than what was appropriate. She hadn't said anything, her eyes hadn't come back to look at me, her hand hadn't gripped mine to raise it up so she wasn't telling me I'd gone further than I should have, but still -- I raised it again, back over her belly button. When the car lurched around a corner, hitting a pothole on the dirt road, everybody in the car bounced with it. My hand lurched upward just a bit more, the side of my thumb coming to rest in the sweet curve where her belly changed to her breast. Her free hand came back to rest on top of mine, not moving it away, but holding it in place. She had to have felt the touch of my hand against her breast, but she made no move to push me away. Just momentarily, and as the car steadied out once again, she withdrew her hand from mine, sliding it down to her own leg. I could have easily raised my hand and filled it with her breast; with her back to everyone else, nobody else would have been able to see. I so wanted to, but instead kept my hand flat against her stomach, but I also was not moving away from that faint touch of her breast.

Nothing had been said between us, but she had me hot and bothered, I was pretty sure she knew this, and I suspected she was feeling the same. Were her nipples perking through her shirt because they were cold, or because she was also aroused? Was she enjoying my hand on her belly? What would she say if I lifted my hand and squeezed her breast? And then she leaned into me a bit harder, turning more sideways, so that her nearer breast mashed even more against my chest.

I don't know if any of our colleagues had noticed the building lust between us at the party and were doing their best to keep us in line or not, but before I realized it, instead of returning us all to the parking lot where we'd started, the driver pulled up by Tina's guest staff housing and stated, "We'll let you out here, Tina."

She turned to say goodbye to everyone else in the car, slightly pulling away from my hand under her breast, and in doing so her leg that was between mine pushed back and into my erection. If she hadn't realized what she was doing to me before, she obviously did now, as just as she'd made no effort to move my hand away from her breast, she made no effort to move her leg back from where it was pressing against my erection. She sat there for several seconds, saying goodbye to everyone else, and then turned back. I hadn't moved my hand, she'd just turned away, but now as she turned to lean forward and through the door, her breast moved downward into my hand.

It was just momentary, but she had to have realized I'd just inadvertently fondled her, her hard nipple stroking my palm as she moved. I hadn't squeezed or pushed against her, but I knew that she knew, and I wasn't sure that it was an accidental contact. Sliding out the door, she stood and turned back, bidding adieu to everyone again, saying thanks for driving and, to me personally, "thank you for letting me sit in your lap" before she turned and walked away. It was just a short personal goodbye, but for those few seconds her eyes had locked on mine and a sexy look of understanding, telling me that she had definitely felt my erection, that she'd definitely known she was pressing her breast against me and into my hand and had very much enjoyed the ride. I understood she was telling me "that was fun, but no more," but all my mind could concentrate on was she liked that too, she wouldn't have minded if you had been feeling her up all the way home.

Monday, back in the office, I wasn't sure what to say. Should I apologize? Had I pushed too far? "We, uh, sure had more than enough to drink the other day, huh?"

"Oh My God!" I haven't had that much to drink, well... maybe ever."

"I hope you had fun."

"Yeah, that was fun. I had fun. Did you?"

"Yeah, but Tina, I um, hope we didn't get... too far out of... um..." I knew my face had to be crimson, trying to apologize for something that would not have happened, at least not that way, if I'd been sober.

"Don't worry about it, Steve, we had fun, and nothing happened that I didn't enjoy."

"Yeah. I enjoyed it too. You can ride on my lap to the beach anytime you want."

Shit. I couldn't believe I said that, although it was exactly what I was thinking. Along with riding on my lap I was thinking of fondling her breasts, tweaking her nipples, kissing her delectable lips, but I hadn't really intended to say anything like that -- it just came out.

Her blush said it all, but her "I'll bet you would, but I'm not so sure my husband or your wife would like that," ended the conversation about the beach party, thereby admitting that we went beyond where we should have and it never came up again.

That night after the beach party was not the last time I ever masturbated fantasizing about being with Tina, but it was the first.

~

Now, here I was 20 years later, alone in my hotel room, remembering what was, and imagining what might have been, what could have been, one more time. Erection in hand, I was slowly stroking myself and remembering that beach party and then later the one and only time I'd truly fondled her and so many other little things that had turned me on about Tina over that long ago semester.

I remembered the day she'd gotten caught in the rain. The rain had not been forecast, just a quick unexpected change in weather and she'd been caught between the office and her classroom in a downpour. A simple white blouse had clung to her like a second skin when she had come running into the office resembling a drowned squirrel. I had my gym bag with me, and I immediately pulled my towel out and gave it to her. It worked on her hair, but it didn't prevent the blouse or her thin white bra from clinging to her body and turning nearly translucent. I didn't have to stare; she might as well have been topless. I'd occasionally seen the lacy decorations of a sexy bra through a white blouse before and I know I'd seen her nipples erect through the tee-shirt after the beach party. I'd also occasionally spied those intriguing sexy little bumps protruding from other shirts. But now, for the first time, I could see the size and color of her areolas and the bumps of her cold nipples. "I don't suppose you've got a shirt I can borrow?" she had asked, pulling the blouse away from her body, recognizing even as she did that it did no good. I immediately acknowledged I had my still clean and unworn gym tee-shirt, which she readily accepted when I offered. "Pull the door shut, will you?"

"Want me to go out?" I said out of politeness, standing and moving toward the door.

"No need. I don't think there's much more for you to see," she'd answered, essentially acknowledging that she knew her shirt and bra were translucent and I had to have seen her virtually nude from the waist up. The answer was the typical Scandinavian no-nonsense, pragmatic style that was so much Tina.

I'd witnessed this mindset of Tina before and would several times again before the end of semester. Turning her back to me, she pulled the wet blouse off, dropping it to the couch in front of her, and then reached back, and unhooked her bra, leaving her naked from the waist up. She dropped the bra on top of her blouse and then reached down beside her to the seat of the couch for the dry tee shirt before straightening up, lifting her arms, and slipping it over her head. Taking her shirt and bra off, all I'd seen was her back. But topless, turning slightly sideways to reach for my shirt, her one breast was completely silhouetted. Her nipple, cold from the wet, was erect and completely visible. Her breasts, not large, but not overly small, were firm and perky and I immediately remembered it momentarily filling my hand on the way back from the beach. If all I'd seen was her bare back it would have been enough for my overactive imagination, but then seeing her breast silhouetted -- there were multiple times over the semester where my imagination took me back to that exact moment.

A certain sexual tension remained between us the remainder of the semester. Flirting, innuendos, the attraction was mutual, although we never went nearly as far as after the beach party. I think we both knew that in different circumstances, something would have happened between us. There was nothing overt, but we were often close to stepping over the line with flirtatious comments, eye play, or slightly lingering hugs or touches. Our office hours didn't always coincide but, several times when they did, we left campus and fully enjoyed a private lunch together. It almost felt like dating, but we never carried it any further than just lunch.

It was about the first of November that Chris came to visit. Supposedly it was a 'vacation' for him, but truthfully, we all knew it was a conjugal visit. He had been back in Oslo, alone since early August, while she had been teaching at the University and I knew that, except for our flirtations in and around the office, she had been chaste since then also. I met Christopher the night he arrived, Tina brought him by the University and introduced him to everyone, and then they disappeared for the weekend. I didn't need to ask on Monday what they'd done, really my only question was whether they'd even gotten out of bed after having been apart for three months.

Despite the early semester fireworks between us, and the occasional suggestive flirting when we were alone during the year, except for the rainstorm event -- nothing happened between us until the final party. It was an end-of-semester, pre-Christmas, goodbye to Tina, all-in-one all-staff party. Most had a spouse or significant other along, but as my wife was working that night, and Tina had no one else, we went together. As with the summer party, there were multiple of the older staff that were there early, mostly for the drinking, and by 10 o'clock or so they began to disappear. And then there were those of us, the younger ones, that were just beginning to get going when the older ones were departing. Dancing, food, drinks -- by the time that Tina and I were on the dance floor, we were feeling no pain. I'd had enough alcohol to break the inhibitions that had previously kept me from making an outright pass at Tina all semester, and Tina seemed to be buzzing from more than a few drinks as well. After a couple of months of lusting after my office mate, mutually teasing back and forth, we took it further than we ever had before.

Tina was wearing a little black dress that was not overly sexy but otherwise quite perfect for the occasion. Form fitting, it clung and showed her sexy body totally unlike her daily dress style. Her neckline exposed her décolletage, more of her breasts exposed than I had seen since she changed her shirt in front of me. She did not normally wear much jewelry, but this night she had a single gold chain and pearl that nestled between her breasts, attracting my eye, and I'm sure the eye of several others.

I'd heard comments from many of the other staffers during the semester about how attractive Tina was and how lucky I was to be the one to share an office with her, but I'd always assured everyone that our interaction was purely professional. I had gotten a raised eyebrow, or a "yeah, right," when the question ever arose if there was anything between us, but I always denied it. I'd always been very careful and, as far as I knew, I'd never given any physical indication in public that anything was happening between us, despite that Tina and I both knew there was a strong physical attraction that we could not act upon. Others may have had their suspicions, but I knew the truth, and didn't feel that I needed to share with them that I might have wished for exactly what they were suggesting, but that interaction only ever took place in my mind.

The dancing that evening was "just dancing" to begin with, but as the older staff drifted off, the dancing became suggestive. Separated bodies, dancing together, became bump and grind with bottoms pressed to crotches or fronts held hard against each other. Hands on hips went to, well, hands in many places. There were those who were dating, and then there were those, like Tina and me, who were just colleagues. The transition to more and more suggestive moves seemed to evolve naturally on the semi-dark dance floor as the evening wore on. It was not just us either; hands that had been holding partners close were seen to caress up and down bodies, sometimes across bottoms or breasts, sometimes across crotches. Roaming hands were sometimes allowed, other times moved or pulled aside, but those rejections seemed almost to be the exception instead of the rule. In a few cases I witnessed roaming hands that weren't appreciated, and, in every case, they were stopped before they reached their target. Invariably, when that happened, the single courtesy dance became a one-time event as those partners separated. In other cases, roaming hands were allowed, often between colleagues that I'd not previously known to share intimacy.

Tina and I had both danced with several others during the night, but she kept coming back to me, just as I kept coming back to her, and gradually we moved into just the two of us dancing, often with full body contact. When I put my hand around Tina's waist and pulled her back against me during a sexy slow song, it was obvious she felt my erection as she ground her bottom against me in a very sensuous dance move. I nuzzled her neck and, when I turned her, her face turned up to look into my eyes, lust smoldering in both of our eyes. It was obvious how much we were enjoying this, both of us longing for more.

I was not thinking of any ramifications when my hands slipped up her body to her breasts, just that it felt good, it felt right -- and I was deeply in lust for my office mate. Her breasts filled my hands, nipples hardening in my palms, a breathy shudder and "ummm" of pleasure heard. My hand slid lower until my fingers found her nipple, eliciting a shiver of pleasure but, before too long, she reached up and pulled my hands back to her waist. Her head bent back to mine again, her shuddering breath whispering into my ear, "Steve... we can't...

"Hmmm," I whispered in return, "we can't... but you want to..."

"Oh yes."

"I know," I said, now keeping my hands on her waist... "Me too."

~

I looked down at the puddle of semen on my body, my still hard cock in hand. All of these things had gone through my mind in the last few minutes as I'd masturbated to thoughts of my one-time office mate and desired lover. Now that she was single, as was I, could it be that perhaps, at long last, my lusty desire for her could be fulfilled? At dinner, talking about all the things that had happened to us since we last met, it was as if we had never been apart. Had she tonight also felt the physical attraction that I had? Did she desire to take it where we had never been able to before? She had turned me down when the opportunity to move on had been there. Had she truly needed to rest and get ready for tomorrow, or was she cutting me off, telling me once again that "we can't?"

My hand was still gripping my cock, my thumb rubbing semen over the head, the slippery sensation causing a shudder and a swelling of my cock once again. I hadn't masturbated twice in a row in years, but the thought of her perfect breasts, her nipples, so well-remembered through the thin material of the sexy bra she'd worn under her dress that night, the way they'd responded to my caress, erect to begin with but growing to my touch, had my penis growing stronger by the moment.

We left together that night after the party, the taxi dropping us in front of her apartment when we got there. I walked her to her door, but she didn't immediately go in. She'd turned to me, I'd turned to her, and we both knew we were going to kiss. Her face turned up to mine, her eyes closing as I leaned in and kissed her for the first time.

Moment later she pulled away, looking around, perhaps realizing we were still in front of her apartment and on display to the world. Turning, she unlocked the door and I stepped in behind her. Once again, she turned back and slipped into my arms, and this time, from the beginning, it was a lusty "I want to fuck you" kiss. She didn't stop me when my hand once again filled itself with her breast, squeezing the hard nipple I found there. The shuddering of her breath and body told me she wanted this as much as I did, but it didn't last long. When I slipped my hand into her neckline, under the dress and onto her breast through the thin sexy bra that barely separated my hand from her bare skin, it was just a few seconds before her hand came up and gripped my wrist to gently extract herself from my caress. She relinquished my wrist and pushed gently against my chest. "Steve... I want to, but we can't. I can't."

"I know," I said, my own breath shuddering with desire as I spoke. "I know."

It wasn't long and I was stroking myself again, this time imagining all that we hadn't done. In my mind I could see my hands slipping inside her little black dress after the party, pushing it back off her shoulders, unzipping it, undressing her. I hadn't actually seen her bra that night, just felt it that one time as my hand had slid inside it to her bare breast, but in my mind, I knew it had been thin and sheer and oh-so-sexy. I imagined standing in front of her, my arms wrapped around, pulling the zip and letting it slip from her shoulders, falling to the ground, her breasts that I had so desired to see and fondle now exposed. The thin black silky material would not hide them; her nipples would be hard, protruding, showing me how they desired my touch. Would she have a thong? Panty styles had changed over 20 years, but once having felt her bottom pressed against me, grinding against me, I could now imagine that she would be wearing a thong, knowing it would entice me. I imagined standing behind her, filling my hand with her nearly naked breasts, her hands slipping between us, into my crotch, feeling my erection that had been pressed against her bottom. Looking over her shoulders, nuzzling her neck, her nipples would be pressing through the thin bra which I had exposed and, soon enough, teasing the palms of my hands. I imagined slipping her bra loose; it had to be a front clasp as it had been so smooth on her back, exposing her gorgeous beauties that I'd only seen once, so many years before when she was soaked to the bone. I vividly remembered when she turned and reached for my shirt, thinking she was only showing me her naked back, instead showing me the side of her boob. Or had she? Could it have been so many years ago that it was another of her subtle teases? That she had known she was exposing her breast to me, that she had wanted me to see her?

In my mind I turned her in my arms, standing back to look directly upon, and be mesmerized by, her beautiful body. I reached down, filling my fingertips with her nipples while her hands fumbled with my belt. I imagined leaning down to suckle her breasts, all while her hands continued to pull my belt and pants loose, soon enough pushing down, thumbs catching my underwear, as my cock sprang forward. Her cool hands gripped me even as my hand slipped into her panty, my finger finding the soft flesh between her legs, finding her warmth and wetness, my finger caressing, feeling her shudder.

What was it about tonight that she had me so aroused, with just memories, after so many years? Was it the proximity? Knowing that she was just a few floors below me? Was it that I "knew" she wanted me too, or was it just my imagination? I didn't know, but after my heart rate slowed again, I got up and took a shower before returning to bed.

* * * * *

Tina closed the door behind herself and leaned against it, her heart rate high and mind racing. She knew she was blushing even if she was alone in her room. She hadn't felt like this in years and the memories of her time together with Steve, almost 20 years before, came rushing back. The image of his muscular body on the beach, leaving little to the imagination during the beach volley game, and the shameless flirting that they got into in the heat of the game. And then, sitting on his lap in the car, leaning into him, her bare breast under the thin t-shirt pressing into his chest, their legs intertwined. His hand had been on her belly, stroking from the bottom of her breasts to what would have been below the top of her panties, if she'd had any on. Having worn her shorts and shirt over her bikini on the way there, she'd had no choice but to just put them on without underwear for the trip home. His hand had brushed against the bottom of her breast several times and she had so hoped he would raise it just that little more and appease her need, but he hadn't. Her leg had pressed against his undeniable erection, she could have moved away, but hadn't. So badly she had wanted to dive in, kiss him, and more. In her mind, she had imagined walking back from the parking lot where they had started and inviting him in. Perhaps their colleague, who was driving, had noticed their nearly out of control flirtation and deciding to drop her off first, alone, saving her from what she might have later regretted. She had often wondered what might have happened had they instead been returned together to that parking lot. She had been raised with a strong sense of right and wrong, and that night, even though she knew she was married to someone else, after months of being alone, the temptation to allow someone else to touch her and please her had been extremely strong.