Ellen's heart was beating just a little too fast; her breath came at irregular intervals. She couldn't believe she was so nervous; one would think she had never touched a man before. Of course she had, many times, but there was something different about this man, in this place, at this time.
For one, she knew she shouldn't be touching him at all. He wasn't married, but he lived with his girlfriend of the last five years. She was an alcoholic, emotionally unstable and completely unable to contribute emotionally, mentally, or physically to their relationship, but he was afraid that if he broke up with her she might hurt herself. He was obviously unhappy, but for the time being he was sticking by his girlfriend. No matter what she thought about his situation, no matter how bad she wanted him, she knew that she shouldn't be involved with him while he was in a relationship with someone else.
They had tried, numerous times, to stop their involvement, to just be friends. Some how that had only made her want him more. They would share their problems and try to encourage each other, but instead of seeing him only as a friend she would soon find herself fantasizing about taking his head in her hands and cradling it on her breasts. She was torn between wanting to nurture him and wanting to rip his clothes off and fuck him until they both fell in a sweaty heap. She would remind herself that there were too many complications and giving into temptation would only make things worse, but she was never entirely convinced of that.
They had worked in the same building for over a year. In that time they had gone from flirting, to a few stolen moments of limited intimacy, to a friendship heightened by extreme sexual attraction. She had done her best to respect his wish that they just be friends, but she found that she couldn't help but flirt with him. He was so attractive. He was the classic tall dark and handsome man that romance writer's write about. He had broad shoulders, a trim waist, strong legs and a nice ass. What more could a girl ask for? It was no wonder she wanted to touch him all the time.
What made things even harder was the she wasn't only attracted to his body, but she had found herself falling for his heart. He was sentimental, caring and kind, and all without losing one ounce of his masculinity. He was 6 foot 4 inches of man and just the thought of him drove Ellen crazy.
She sometimes worried that he wished she would show more restraint with her flirting, considering he had told her they needed to stop playing around, but he had no idea just how much restraint she had showed. Every time they were alone together, running one errand or another, she wanted to shove him in the nearest chair, climb on top of him, grab two fists of hair and have her way with his mouth. Instead she did her best to keep the conversation on relatively safe ground, teasing him with words here and there as opportunity permitted. When she left him she was usually wet and wanting more.
Now he was leaving to work across town. The likely hood of seeing him again was slim to none. She tried to convince herself it was better this way. No temptation, no chance to make bad decisions. It sounded reasonable, but it wasn't how she really felt. She wanted him to stay; in fact she wanted him to see her outside of work. She knew they shouldn't, couldn't and wouldn't, but she wanted all the same. They had been in a hands off situation for about a month when he told her he was leaving for good. She had actually felt a little sick to her stomach afterward. It was crazy really. They spent maybe 10 or 15 minutes a week together, and now she found herself extremely disappointed that it was about to be over for good. In a good bye gesture he had said that they could have one last rendezvous, a rendezvous that she was on her way to at that very moment.
She felt her breath catch in her throat and her heart pound in her chest. She could see him waiting for her outside the supply shop. Everything was closed down on the weekends so there was no one else around as they entered the door at the back of the shop. She had tried to think about what she would say on her way over, but everything she had thought of sounded either trite, sleazy, or sappy. As luck would have it she didn't have to say anything. The moment the door closed behind them, leaving them in the darkened room he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him. If it had been a sit com they would have bumped heads, instead their lips met as if magnets pulled them together. If it hadn't been so clichéd she would have sworn she felt a zing of electricity when their lips touched. The thought that this was going to be really hard to give up hovered near the back of her mind as their tongues sought refuge in each other's mouths.
Her hands slipped from his shoulders to the sides of his head in an attempt to pull him even closer. She could feel his hands slide under her shirt skimming along her back, finding the hooks to her bra. After successfully freeing her breasts, his right hand moved to the front to cup her, stroking her nipple with his thumb. His left hand continued to stroke her back in a slow caressing motion that had her moaning for more. She knew they couldn't have sex, she new they only had moments, and she also knew they were only moments away from starting a fire that couldn't be put out with only a few last kisses.
She drew him in deeper with her mouth as her hands surveyed his face, caressing eyelids, brow, cheek and chin. She touched his mouth with her fingers, wanting to feel his lips pressed to hers, and then slowly her fingers trailed down the sides of his face and neck. She followed them with her lips, methodically kissing every exposed square inch as her hands continued their way down his body, molding themselves to his muscular shoulders and back.
She moaned again as his hands switched jobs, taking turns exploring the soft planes of her back, shoulders and breasts. She wanted him to kiss; she wanted him to bite, but most of all she didn't want him to stop. But he did stop, long enough to take off his coat, drop it on the floor and lower her down on top of it. The quilted padding of the coat hardly made up for the hard concrete, but that seemed much less important than the need that was rising in both of them faster than she would have believed possible.
Again she could hear the echo of warning in her head, telling her to stop and to come back to her senses. Louder than the echo was the sound of blood crashing in her ears like waves on the beach. For each wave of her heartbeat she felt a matching wave crashing in her pelvis. She felt the rise of her need throbbing in her clit. She thought she might come before anyone ever lost an item of clothing. She answered the throbbing by wrapping her legs around his waist, grinding herself into him.
What started off as tender and electric had quickly turned into an out of control inferno of desire and need; his need to feel loved and connected to someone sober and in control, her need to share her passion with someone alive and vital.
He answered her need by reaching under her skirt and tugging down her panties. His hands, skilled and powerful, found her warm, wet and ready. His fingers quickly found her rhythm and soon had her rocking against him in a slow and erotic dance. While his hands busied themselves with her lower extremities, their mouths found each other once again. His mouth seemed to melt against hers. His lips were impossibly hot, and she could feel herself melting from their touch as if she were made of liquid gold. This time it was his lips that traveled down her neck leaving a trail of burning embers in their wake. Somewhere in the fog of passion she dimly remembered that they were at work and that they would be fired if caught, but the memory quickly faded in the wake of his molten kisses.
She freed her hands from the back of his head long enough to tug off her top, thinking briefly that her idea to wear a short skirt and a wrap around blouse had been all but genius. With one hand he quickly dispatched with the bra he had unhooked earlier, while his other hand continued to tease her wet curls and the tender flesh beneath. His mouth found its' way down her neck to the velvety softness that was the valley between her generous breasts, his free hand teasing her nipples into firm and succulent berries.
Her breath came faster as she began to peak. She tried to fight the coming tidal wave, wanting to prolong the pleasure, knowing that she might as well try to hold back a thousand stampeding horses. The impact of her orgasm hit her with an incredible force, causing her to cry out as she bucked and rocked beneath his punishing hands. As she came, he alternately took each of her nipples into his mouth, grazing them gently with his teeth, gently sucking them into the wet warmth of his mouth.
Before she could recover from the first orgasmic wave she was caught up in another. Her body had just begun to relax in his hands when he tugged down her skirt and took her hot wetness in his mouth driving her to the edge once again. She struggled underneath him, unsure whether she could take his delicious form of punishment again so soon. He pinned her hands to her sides, gently, but firmly, holding her down so that her only protest came in the form of a loud moan that hovered somewhere between pleasure and pain.
She tried to tell him that it was her turn to please him, that he had given her so much already, but her words were choked off by a gasp of pleasure tearing itself from her throat. He seemed intent on pushing the very limits of her ability to receive pleasure. When she gave in to the silent demand that she receive his gift, her body relaxed and once again fell into the rhythm he set. Her hands entwined themselves into his hair, feeling the power of his intention. His lips caressed her clit in a relentless kiss driving her into the unknown. His fingers plunged into her dark wetness, finding a spot of pleasure so intense she thought, for a moment, that she might pass out. Just when he had brought her to the brink of ultimate bliss he pulled back and worked his way back up her body with his mouth and his hands.
Letting go of all thought to where they were, Ellen completely gave into the moment, finding the zipper of his pants and giving his manhood the freedom it sought. There was no need to guide him to his target; he found it as if it had been a homing beacon, waiting for him all along. She let out a gasp as he entered her, barely containing her own desire from bursting into flames. She wanted to wait this time; she wanted them to come together in this last meeting before their relationship would end.
She wrapped her legs around him, gathering him deep inside her as he pushed them both farther and farther towards the edge of the cliff. There was nothing for her to do but hold on and wait for the final fall, hoping that it would never come and praying that it would.
When he could wait no more he came with a force so great he looked caught in a moment between birth and death. She knew exactly how he felt. Never in her life had she experienced this height of ecstasy. In fact, never before had she been able to reach a climax through intercourse. For the first time in her life she knew what it was for a man and a woman to share that experience, to reach the edge together and gladly fall into the abyss.
As they laid together, she became acutely aware of each sensation, each nerve ending, each breath, each beat of her heart. Slowly she came into her own body, feeling his weight as his body covered hers, feeling the cool air of the room move across her forearms as they lay across his broad back.
At last he stirred, coming back from a sex induced coma. He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked into her eyes with a sad knowing and a sweet tenderness. He caressed her face with his thumbs and kissed her temple. There were no words to say, everything that needed to be said had been said with the touch of hands, lips, and bodies. Reaching into each other for this moment, in this place, touching a place deeper than they had planned on going, but knowing it was a place that had been waiting for them all along.
Quietly they moved from the floor. After fixing himself he tenderly helped her dress. He covered her face with soft kisses, running one hand through her hair, while the other one cradled the back of her neck as his eyes said goodbye. Silently she gathered the few supplies that had been her excuse for coming in the first place. They held hands on the way to the door, inspecting each other for wrinkled clothing, lingering doubts or regrets. Finding none they reached for each other one last time, her hands on his face, his hands pulling her into his embrace as their lips met in a warm kiss that tasted of contentment. At last they moved apart and into the bright sunlight, with no words to say, and one last enduring look, they moved on into their day and into their lives, changed, she hoped, for the better.
