by Nicci Greene
We both orgasmed again and had made love two more times after that, stopping between sessions to kiss and cuddle, laugh, giggle, order room service and play music. We lay together naked as he gently stroked my skin always looking over me. Keeping me safe but still examining me, taking pictures in his mind of this moment in case it would be his last with me, like this, naked and satisfied.
I ignored my phone which buzzed in my bag, ignoring the consequences of not answering it. Ignoring too my life outside the hotel room and the outside world, opting only for the one we had together. We spent the night together holding one another naked.
The next morning after our night of passion we still lay together for ages until we awoke chatting and looking into each others eyes occasionally kissing and tickling one another. We had slipped under the covers during the night but our naked bodies were still entwined under the sheets. Forgetting again about the outside world our skin slid together and we touched each other everywhere not able to stop touching and caressing until we made love once more.
That time a more gentle morning sex, quick and nice but without an orgasm and I was left once again feeling horny. Even after the day before I still wanted more of this man. I couldn’t believe it as I began for the first time to think about the world outside. I thought briefly about my boyfriend and the fact that he had never made me orgasm like that nor had he ever been as tender with me. After sex with him I had no interest in doing it again for a second time let alone a third or fourth.
I eventually rose out of the bed with my body feeling tired but my mind active. I went over to the dressing table and turned on the kettle to make us both a cup of tea.
‘Fancy a cuppa?’ I said as I stood there naked in front of my boss. ‘Yes please’ his reply with manners. Always the gentleman I thought until I saw his eyes. The stare followed me as he watched me and once again took in my body and its curves as if video taping me with his memory. His stare made me feel even more horny as it appeared sexy and almost dirty. I could tell he would be rising again getting hard once more and ready soon to pleasure me all over again.
I walked over to him and watched as his eyes as they examined my breasts again in detail. I knew him by then and I knew that look as I sat on the bed setting his cup of tea on the bedside cabinet. As I sipped my tea before putting it down beside his I slipped my cool hand under the covers. It was very warm under the duvet so the shock of my colder hand made him wince arching his back before I grabbed him letting all the heat escape from him and into my hand. I sat there holding his penis and looking into his eyes. I gently caressed it until it was rock hard again before yanking it hard to pull him forward making him rise from the bed. I led him by his penis into the bathroom, still holding him tight as it began to pulsate.
We both knew we were heading for the shower so that once again we could caress one another.
As I leant in to turn the shower on I turned him on too and he grabbed my bum and I giggled, giddy with anticipation and pleasure. Leaning back into him I felt his hands drift once again to my ample bosom before pulling me tight to feel his warm front against my cool back and then I stepped into the shower. At first he watched me once again examining me in detail as I pulled my hair back under the water. He seemed amazed, taken aback even, at my beauty and my body, amazed and unbelieving that he had been so lucky to, only yesterday be inside me for the first time and to have finally won the opportunity to spend this time with me.
He then stepped inside.
By then I had lathered my body with the soap so when he pulled me to him my breasts slipped against his chest and I slid my hands down to hold him again, gently stroking him up and down in my soapy hands. His hands slid all over me finding my bum then up my sides and then again briefly onto my breasts before taking my face in my hands and saying, ‘Thank-you for this’. My hands continued again to slide up and down his hard shaft in a soapy lather as I smiled in recognition.
He held my face as he kissed me and licked my mouth swirling his tongue around mine. My stroking began to pull him forward and he became harder in my hands until without warning he pulled me out of the water and turned me round pushing me forward and holding my shoulders as he bent me over into my favourite position, doggy style and it was the prefect end to our encounter. My hands were resting on the wet but still cold tiles and for a second he seemed be fixated once again on them and on my red nails until this seemed to raise his level of excitement and he pushed himself hard inside me from behind. My usual moan became more like a yell and inside he wriggled around twisting his pelvis before thrusting harder and harder whilst sliding his hands all over my body grabbing at my breasts. He banged and banged at me and my noises became much more excitable, much more than the night before. I was loving it and he could tell. He knew me, he knew what I liked and his hand finally found its way to mine pressing against it as it gripped the tiles. His fingers slid in between mine and I gripped his hand hard as we came together and held that position so I could feel him pump into me.
Sadly it all had to end and it did abruptly when I finally picked up my phone after getting dressed. 19 missed calls and countless messages awaited me. I listened to my voicemail and quickly erased the expected irate messages from my boyfriend until I began to hear worry in his voice and then messages from my family, my mum, my sisters. They were worried about me and didn’t know what had happened to me. I felt guilty; sick even, as the real world came crashing into that hotel room. The love that had once filled the air disappeared and the passion that was in my life seemed so far in the past as that dark day poured into the room.
He left me back to the train station and we kissed before I left to get my train. We didn’t say much and he knew what was in store for me. We wouldn’t see each other again until the New Year when we went to work but we promised to text. I didn’t keep my promise because there was a lot going on at my end. Fights and arguments were the order of the day with everyone on my case. I was so sad, so lonely and unable to fight back as it seemed they were all against me. All on his side because they didn’t understand and I couldn’t tell them the truth in case they hated me more.
I was alone and unable to cope anymore so I bit the bullet and I dumped my boyfriend. My friends were his friends, really, so they were all against me and against the split. My family didn’t understand and questioned me over and over again, ‘Why? Why?’ but I couldn’t explain.
My mum knew though, I could see it in her eyes and she was the only one that didn’t badger me with questions. She knew where I was on Boxing Night and why I was so upset. She knew deep down I was in love and as she too had been in love with my father so she knew the pain in my heart as it ached for my man, my prince, my boss.
I didn’t answer his texts and he then became worried himself, sending me even more questions. The pressure was intense and unbearable. On New Year’s Eve I went to a party with my so called friends. My ex was there even though they promised he wouldn’t be. He spent the night pleading with me for a kiss at mid-night, asking me to go back with him, telling me how he would change, how things would be different and I very nearly agreed until 11.52pm that night when I received a text from my boss which simply read;
I love you
That was exactly what I needed, perfect timing as usual. My heart melted inside but I remained hard nosed while my friends tried to resolve things with me and my ex. I knew the New Year would be great. I wanted to be with my boss and I was sure he wanted to be with me. I just had to get through the next few days until I got back to work and he would be there on his white horse, waiting for me. I was convinced of it and that got me through.
I couldn’t have been so wrong!
Sure enough when I got back to work he was there, in his suit. No white horse but immaculately dressed as usual. I asked him to join me for lunch so I could fill him in on all my troubles and we decided to leave the building in order to talk privately.
I poured my heart out to him over a tuna pasta salad and a smoothie, te
ars rolling down my cheeks as I confessed my love and my need for him to remove me from my awful predicament but his expression was different. His eyes were glazed, no longer fixed in that stare. His body language was stand-offish as he sat upright in his seat. I knew something was wrong but was not prepared for what happened next.
Chapter Three – Getting Together Was Complicated
He told me he was married!
I couldn’t believe it. My tears became floods and I was so glad we had left the building for lunch. People stared at me (thankfully strangers) as my shoulders shook and I cried hard. He put his hand onto mine to consol me but I pulled it away. How could he do this to me? I had turned my back on my friends and family and wanted nothing more than to be with him. I gave up my boyfriend and now had no-where to live.
I couldn’t move back in with my family, not at my age, I had flown the nest and I couldn’t cope with the thought of returning there permanently.
His usually charming patter was broken as he stumbled through his feeble explanation stating that I had a boyfriend and that somehow, just because I didn’t know about his wife, it was still the same thing. He continued on as I watched his lips mouth the words. The same lips that had first attracted me to him were delivering daggers into my heart with every word, telling me that he loved me and that he would leave her for me. I didn’t believe him, why didn’t he tell me before? I never asked but it kept reverberating in my mind. It was a pitiful excuse and it wouldn’t wash and so I stormed out of the place straight across to the office, grabbed my bag and left, leaving work and heading home. I was in too much of a state to return to work. He was the boss and it was his fault so he could explain to his seniors why his precious office manager was no–where to be seen.
That journey home on the train seemed to drag on forever. I wanted to be at home with my mum, in the comfort of the house I grew up in and locked away from the real world. I sat on the train as it seemed to labour along stopping at every station and the rain trickled along the window in lines. I put on my iPod and turned the volume up high. I didn’t care if anyone could hear it I just wanted to block out the world.
The songs that kept coming on shuffle were all slow and seemed to bring me down further into the depths of my despair. I shivered with cold as if my heart had given up pumping warm blood and my finger tips were freezing. I held my hands to my face and blew onto them but only cold air came out and it seemed I had left all my heat behind in that café. I wanted my boss to hold me again in his arms and fill me with the warmth we shared on Boxing Day.
I remember then listening to Joy Division and an old track I had downloaded after seeing it in a movie. I played it over and over again, ‘Love will tear us apart’, as I cried on the train, trying desperately to hold back the tears from all the prying eyes around me.
That night after work he again came to my mum’s. When the door knocked I knew it was him. At first I refused to talk to him but he wouldn’t leave so I agreed to go with him. I had been so upset when I got home that I had told my mum everything. I broke down in floods of tears and recalled the whole thing to her. I told her everything that happened; from the review, my overtime, my promotion, our lunch and time at the cinema right up to Boxing Day (without giving her the gory details).
She was understandably worried when I agreed to leave with him but a part of her knew he was a nice man and when we had spoken about him earlier she was able to offer his side while I wailed at her, ‘It cant have been easy for him either’ she said and things to that effect. My mother would never have stuck up for him if she had any doubts about his intentions. She had only met him once but she was always good judge of character.
Despite that though she was nervous when I left with him. ‘Leave your mobile on’, she shouted after me as I got into his shiny, black motor.
He drove, he talked and I listened. For once it was him telling me about his life and I wondered had I ever given him the chance before, to speak or to tell me all of this. We drove for ages until he finally pulled up at the side of the road. It was in the countryside and it was pitch black outside, as if we were inside a thick black cloud with no lights or people it seemed, for miles around. Just us two back once again in that world we had before, just us.
He said, ‘Come here’ and beckoned me to sit on his knee. I crawled across and sat on his knee as he wrapped his arms around me. I felt like a little girl sitting in his lap but I felt safe, warm and happy again. It was just what I needed and what I had wanted before when I sat freezing on the train. His warmth filled me once again as he held me and told me how he felt about me. He told me that as long as I felt the same and wanted the same things, he would go straight home and end it with his wife.
He told me he wanted to settle down and have kids one day and we both shared our thoughts on life and the future. Eventually we kissed; it wasn’t a sexy snog but a long, lingering, loving kiss as if the lust we once shared had evolved into this love.
True to his word he left her. It was messy with a lot of crying and shouting, even from her family. They all seemed shocked and upset. Even his own mother tried to talk him out of it, as did his friends. None of them knew me and it annoyed me that they did this without even having met me but I stayed out of it.
Before long though I had met his friends and his family and they all accepted me into their fold. They could see how he loved me and how we were together and knew it was the right decision for him and for us.
Chapter Four – Married Life
Our wedding day was amazing. All our friends and family all together and everyone there just for us. It is such a special day in everyone’s life and mine was the happiest day, so happy in fact I got tipsy before the ceremony.
Everyone was giving me glasses of champagne while I was getting ready even before I left my mum’s house. My sisters and my aunties were there all guzzling the stuff but taking breaks as they got their make-up or hair done. I on the other hand was last to get everything done so I had lots more than everyone else. The hairdresser and make up girls all came to my mum’s as the cars were picking us up from there.
I remember walking down the stairs with mum at the bottom, finally ready and finally able to make my way to the church. I nearly fell down the stairs I was so tipsy but I was also calm, not nervous at all. My mum on the other hand was going through so many cigarettes she looked like a woman shaped chimney as she puffed away at her front door. I remember her stinking of smoke in the car as we approached the hotel. We got married in a civil ceremony in the hotel and my husband and the boys had stayed there the night before so that morning before I arrived they too had enjoyed a few drinks at the bar.
The ceremony itself was short but very sweet and we had a laugh both being tipsy especially as I couldn’t get his ring on. I thought I was seeing too many fingers as I swayed after attempting to stand there for what seemed like ages but was only a short while.
They say your wedding night should be special but ours wasn’t exactly that. We had a great day but by the evening I was so drunk and tired that I crashed on the bed and fell asleep, fully clothed, in my wedding dress with all the clips still holding up my hair. When I woke the next morning the bones in my dress had dug into me creating deep red tracks on my skin and my head was so sore with my hair still pinned back. It took my husband over half an hour to remove all the clips from my hair and ease the pain in my head.
We didn’t consummate the marriage until we arrived at our honeymoon destination. It was a beach resort in the Caribbean and we spent two weeks lazing around and making love over and over again. Making up for the wedding night we were at it like rabbits, sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon and also at night.
Our married life was probably not much different than most. At first we spent a lot of time together and had sex all the time. We remained professional when at the office but I remember dying to finish work and get home to be with him privately and I know it was the same for him, watching the clock tick slowly to 5
pm so we could race home to embrace. We travelled separately most days as our hours differed depending on meetings and deadlines but the feeling of being home first waiting on him was great. Just knowing he would be home soon to kiss me, embrace me, service me even. I couldn’t wait and when I heard the door I would often get goose-bumps.
It was a far cry from my old life, trudging home in the rain then slaving over his dinner and watching him wolf it down in front of the telly. My life was exciting and my husband made it complete. We would always kiss each other each morning as we said goodbye finding it so hard to part and then a huge hug and long lingering kiss would say hello again each night as if we had not seen each other that day at all.
We couldn’t wait to go to bed each night and sometimes we didn’t make it that far ending up having sex on the sofa or on the living room floor and even on occasion, at the weekends after a bottle of wine, we would curl up together on the sofa after making love and fall asleep naked and knowing we would have sex again when we woke the following day.
He was a great cook and loved to prepare dinner while I watched and chatted about the day. Many a time we would sip wine and dinner became part of the evening rather than a chore. He would often come home and say I’ve booked a table and we would dine out, again sweeping me off my feet with his spontaneity and zest for life.