Letters Around Midnight

by Carla Croft

  ***

  Jean giggled and leaned back swinging her foot lazily over her knee, her shoe dangling from her toes. She gave another spoonful of ice cream the Jean treatment. I hadn’t begun to eat mine yet. I sat there thinking. The scene was still playing through in my mind. It had caught my imagination. All I could offer by way of comment was,

  “Wow.” It felt inadequate as an expression but was all I could muster.

  “How do you feel now?”

  “Regret I suppose. I hadn’t appreciated the attraction of younger men before: but, better late than never.”

  The waiter came back,

  “Ooo, can I have another scoop?” Jean asked.

  “Certainly Miss” he said. We watched him leave, staring at his bum; and then we collapsed in hysterics.

  Alexa - The Legal Assistant

  I had driven all the way down to Bournemouth from London. I was tired, but the sea air was going to do me the world of good and, quite frankly, I was excited to be meeting Alexa again. We had planned to hook up at her flat in the evening but she had called during the drive down to say she was working late. She wouldn’t be finished until after ten o’clock, so we agreed to meet up at the restaurant of my hotel to give us the chance to chat, she could eat, and then go straight home to bed.

  Alexa’s mother and I had been friends at college and I had met Alexa at one of her mother’s drinks parties. Alexa told me she was working as a pupil at a set of barristers’ chambers in Bournemouth. She cross-examined me fiercely when she found out about my stories, asking loads of questions. The kind of women who tell me their most intimate secrets, why I thought they did, what did they get out of it. She was genuinely interested when I told her of the stories I had gathered over the years. After a while, I managed to turn the tables on her and asked why she didn’t have a man in tow. She is, I have to say, a striking young woman.

  “Oh, I’m between men. They’re a distraction,” she said.

  “There isn’t enough time to work and play; and besides, I can do without a man at the moment.”

  I was interested in how a girl with such strident views on the necessity, or otherwise, of men in her life could be interested in my blog. I didn’t have to wait long to find out. Alexa called me a few days later to say she had been thinking about my stories and would be interested in telling me of an encounter she had had. She expressed surprise when I offered to come down to see her.

  “I always prefer to take down stories face to face.” I had explained.

  When people are describing their own intimacy, personal contact is much better. You get nuance of meaning and body language that you lose on the phone. Watching people talk about their intimate moments is endlessly fascinating to me. A look, a gesture, a shift in posture, a fleeting moment of sadness or joy can relay so much more when you are across the table from them. I often get the feeling I’m an erotic vampire living off the intimacy of others; but hey, what the heck, anything for a good story.

  Alexa flew into the restaurant even later than she thought she would. She was a buzz of energy and concentrated poise, and every inch the young professional woman I remembered. More petite, and definitely thinner, but she had to be taken seriously.

  “Oh God you’re not going to tell me I need to eat properly are you?” She had obviously caught the look on my face.

  “You’ll sound like my mother.”

  “No, I’m just thinking what a marvellous suit,” I lied about what I was thinking, not about the suit.

  Alexa certainly knows how to power-dress. Black suit, white blouse, killer heels and the right amount of jewellery to say success not bling. She sat primly at the table. As we sat making small talk, I caught a glimpse of stocking top as she crossed her legs and the flash of a luxurious lining in her suit jacket. She folded her coat carefully on the chair next to her, preening it as if she was an exotic bird of prey.

  Interesting, I thought. Prim on the outside but a hint of the exotic if you dug deeper. Another reason why talking face to face gives you an edge to the story.

  Alexa grabbed the wine menu and ordered an expensive bottle of wine to get us started.

  The waiter returned and went through the ritual of showing the bottle, peeling the seal, pulling the cork and offering Alexa the wine to taste. She held the glass to the tablecloth looking at the wine through the glass, swilled it, sniffed it and pronounced it acceptable. He poured two glasses and retreated.

  “God that’s good” she hummed to herself.

  “Now” she said fixing me with sharp eyes and a smile

  “To business.”

  I have to say I was dead excited about what Alexa was going to reveal to me. What dark erotic moments did she have locked away that she needed to express? I could imagine her in all sorts of romantic situations with high flying execs, lawyers, businessmen in all sorts of fascinating places around the world. I was getting giddy trying to hold my concentration. If she could get me into such a frenzy, what the heck could she do to a man in bed? I sat all a quiver, transfixed as she began.

  ***

  I was still at College working as a legal assistant in another part of the country. I had a summer secondment with a firm I had the option of joining when I qualified. The pay was good and I needed the money and the experience. University life isn’t cheap and firms prefer it if you have shown an interest in working during the holidays.

  I was twenty and clueless in the bedroom. I hadn’t had many experiences with men, work at College was too damn hard. The guys at University were okay but they were all so into themselves it was painful. I certainly wasn’t going to get involved with any of them. So my sex life was thin to say the least. I wasn’t necessarily looking for someone. I am a great believer in things happening in their own time, but if no-one decent came along, I would have to take things into my own hands and go out and get a man.

  Anyway, the firm had a big case on, acting for the insurers of a large engineering company. It was a huge claim for damages. As the company had gone bust, the receivers had been called in. A firm of accountants had been appointed to sort out the financial mess. As they had taken all the documentation offsite and stored it in an old bank building, we had to search any documents relevant to the case. The solicitor in charge asked me and this other student to go to the building and look through the boxes. I was annoyed as it was a hot day and I was wearing a light summer dress. The boxes were going to be filthy; but I didn’t have time to change. This other student, Matthew, and I met down at the store. I hadn’t noticed him before in the office but he was okay, tall and slim; fine hands. He looked shy and was probably as inexperienced with women as I was with men.

  We got into the building and there was this mountain of treasury boxes.

  I mean a real mountain. These things were stacked to the ceiling and covered half the banking floor. We didn’t know where to start. We looked at each other and laughed. The guy from the accountant’s office stared at us, wished us luck and said he would be back to close up. Other than that, we were on our own and had to get on with it. There was a loo and a small kitchen, but that was it: us and these thousands of boxes.

  Matthew and I had to do our best. He started at one end of a pile and I started at the other and we agreed to meet in the middle. You looked in a box and if there was anything interesting you had a rummage, and if not, you carried it to the other end of the room, restacked it and went back for another.

  It was hot and sticky in there in no time. I glanced up at Matthew occasionally. The poor guy was in a worse state than me. He had a suit and tie on. His jacket and tie soon came off but he was still suffering in the heat. He rolled up his shirt sleeves and was soon working up a real sweat. There were big marks under his arms and a big wet V down his back. I noticed how muscular his legs were. I can remember him crouching down to pick up several boxes at a time and you could see the line of his boxers through his t
rousers. You know, it’s the first real time I ever appreciated a man’s bum. I hadn’t noticed men in that way before then. I know it sounds naive but it’s true. It wasn’t only the temperature of the room that was rising.

  I was crouching down as demurely as I could, knees together, as you do. I had found a pile of boxes with documents relevant to what we were looking for. I remember I got the feeling he was looking at me out of the corner of his eye. You know the drill; he looks, I look, he looks away. Never quite catching each other looking at each other; all very school playground. I started to feel wonderfully naughty because of the heat and well, because I fancied him, I suppose: but I didn’t know how to make the first move. So I decided to be a bit risqué and gradually plucked up the courage to open my knees enough to give him a flash. The idea he was looking up my skirt made me feel frisky. Occasionally, I would stretch over to another box and of course I would have to open my legs wider. He was getting a real eyeful.

  Matthew got more adventurous and started working on a pile of boxes closer and more directly in front of me. It was obvious he was moving for a better look. I pretended to be engrossed in what I was doing, but I was playing a game with him. Sometimes, I would give him a flash and sometimes I would close my legs as he looked. I could see it was affecting him. He worked his way over to a pile of boxes only a few meters away from me and was bending over, looking right up my skirt whenever I gave him the opportunity. His suit trousers were getting impressively tight.

  I was horny as hell by then and wondering how to get things moving forward when I picked up a particularly heavy box and the bottom dropped out. Dusty files spilled all down the front of my skirt, leaving a huge black mark. I can remember I swore profusely, and Matthew laughed. I made a comment about it being a stupid job to do in a skirt. He joked that I should take it off. Without even thinking, I said why didn’t he do it for me and that was it. We were all over each other.

  Matthew walked over to me and I practically jumped him, wrapping my legs around his waist. He caught me with his hands under my bum. I had always been apprehensive about a man between my legs but God he felt so good. I squeezed his waist between my thighs as I kissed him hard. The heat of the two of us was incredible. I knew I had to have him inside me. He carried me over to the huge mound of boxes and sat me down on a short stack of them in a gap we had created. We kissed deeply and I could feel his hands move up under my skirt and his fingers searching to get inside my knickers to pull them to one side. I practically ripped the buttons of his shirt trying to get it open. I had this urge to feel his chest against me. It was hard and glistening with sweat. I could taste the salt of him against my lips. I fumbled with his zip and belt to get his trousers open and yanked down his boxers. His cock sprang out at me. I had a burst of saliva in my mouth at the sight of it, it was so lovely and straight with a big tight head. I could see it straining to go. He managed to get my knickers to one side and pushed himself into me. The sensation was so intense as I stretched open to envelope him. It’s making me squirm to remember it. Then he started pumping into me. I could feel his balls banging against my bum. We crushed the boxes I was sat on flat. God knows what state the documents inside were in. He was pounding into me with those amazing thighs of his. The closeness and the humidity of our little space in amongst the mountain of boxes was insane. I practically passed out because of the heat and the sweat was dripping off me but he wouldn’t stop. I squeezed him tighter between my legs, hooking my feet around his back. We were face to face and the sweat was dripping off his face onto me. I had never had an orgasm during sex before but the suffocating heat and the intensity of the session sent me over the edge and I came with hot waves of tension flowing up and down my body. My pussy was so tight around his cock I could feel the veins in it. I screamed in his ear. The poor guy must have been deaf for days. Coming as hard as I did must have sent him over the edge, I felt him stiffen as he shot up inside me, lifting me right off the boxes. He then collapsed as his knees buckled. The poor guy damn near suffered heat stroke. He was panting and gasping and kept mumbling God oh God, it was straight out of a cheap porn flick. We stayed huddled for a time with my legs still wrapped around him. He shuddered a few times as my pussy had its post-orgasm contractions and then he went limp and slid out. I relaxed my legs from around his waist; to be honest, I couldn’t grip any longer they were numb.

  We went to the kitchenette and dabbed cold water over each other with tea towels to cool down. We were soaked with water, sweat and sex. My blouse had gone see-through. Matthew stared at me, not saying anything. My nipples were so erect they were painful against the inside of my bra. It was obvious what was going to happen next, we were there reading each other’s thoughts. This slow smile spread across his face and I remember thinking Oh my God, here we go again. He lifted me up in one swift movement and plonked me down on the draining board. He slipped my knickers off this time and took me there and then. It was a fast and furious replay out of Fatal Attraction. Luckily he was tall and managed to enter me by going up on tiptoe. It certainly wasn’t as intense as the first time but the boy had stamina, I’ll give him that and he came again. Twice was enough for him and he had to give up. We clung to each other for a while with him between my legs, leaning back against the wall of the kitchen. I was stroking his hair and the flat of his back above his bum.

  I pulled his head off my chest and asked him directly

  “Are we done now?” All he could manage was a nod and a grin. It’s by far the best sex I’ve ever had. We tidied ourselves up but my clothes were in a real state.

  When the guy from the accountants came back later, Matthew, bless him, said I was in the loo and managed to persuade the guy to give him the keys. There was nothing to nick in the building and it meant he didn’t have to open up and lock up for us. Matthew got his car, drove it around the front and I managed to get into it half-dressed and stinking of beautiful, hot, hard sex. We went back to Matthew’s flat and showered off together and then spent the night. He was a great guy, a real gentleman.

  It took us weeks to go through the pile of boxes. I still love the smell of files from an archive store. It’s that dusty, damp smell. It brings it all back.

  I think it was from then on that I took charge of my own sexuality. It was an eye opener that I could be in control, on my terms. I didn’t have to be the object of someone else’s desire. I could be the subject of my own. Now, if I want it, I know I can get it; so the pressure is off. If I don’t want it, I don’t have to play the game anymore. It’s liberating.

  ***

  The sound of my jaw hitting the table interrupted Alexa mid-sentence. I have to say, it wasn’t anything like I had imagined it would be. The sheer wild abandonment was a million miles away from the poised, prim, controlled woman sitting in front of me.

  “Well, what do you think? Worth writing up?” she asked.

  “Hell yes” was all I could say.

  Amanda - The Solicitor

  Amanda is a solicitor and an ex-colleague. We had worked together several years ago until I had received a better offer from another firm. I hadn’t heard from her in a while but being a busy professional woman, I thought work was keeping her busy. She invited me around for a meal, some wine and a chat. What I believed was going to be work related turned out to be something different. She had an encounter for me to listen to. It was going to be a completely different evening from our usual talk of takeovers and mergers.

  When I arrived the lights were on low, the music was on and the wine was open. We made small talk for a while. Amanda had heard of my story collection from mutual friends. I was all ears. Everyone has at least one good encounter in them; their Warhol fifteen minutes of fame so to speak. She looked nervous so I poured her a glass of wine and told her to go for it.

  “I’ve heard it all before” I assured her, putting on my best bedside manner,

  “So don’t be shy.”

  “I’m gay”
she blurted out without a run up.

  I must have done a double take and choked on my wine. Amanda was not the type of girl I imagined to be gay. She had always joined in the chat regarding men. She had dated several. So this was a shock. I decided to be nonchalant. I took a deep breath.

  “Thank God for that. By the look on your face I thought it was going to be something serious.”

  She laughed, thank heavens; but her eyes had welled up.

  “It’s so good to be able to say it, it’s such a relief to tell someone.”

  Instinctively, I went over and gave her a hug then pulled away,

  “God, you don’t fancy me, do you?”

  “Oh no,” she said. Despite myself, I tried not to feel hurt.

  “I don’t mean you’re not attractive or anything,”

  “Thanks, I think”

  “But, well you’re a friend, and I don’t want to lose you.”

  “Just friends then,” I said. It sounded weird, like being dumped as a teenager and saying you’ll still be friends.

  “So this encounter then” I said, trying to be tactful and changing the subject,

  “An ex or a current?”

  “Current,”

  “Ok...is she anyone I know?” It came out sounding wrong; too pushy, but Amanda didn’t appear to mind.

  “My secretary.” She looked at me as if she had told me she had three heads and came from Saturn.

  I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Amanda looked hurt.

  “You don’t see the irony of falling for your secretary?” I asked.

  We both laughed this time. It was good to see Amanda relaxing. I hoped she would be able to be more honest in her feelings and would take this as a good thing going forward. I have a few openly gay friends of both sexes. It doesn’t faze me at all. I have often wondered what it must be like to have sex with another woman. Men are all, well, so much testosterone and force and power. Women are so soft, inviting and gentle. Speaking personally though, I think I would miss the raw, hard, sexual power of a man in the bedroom. Too much softness and femininity, and for me, sex would be missing something essential. Also, as much as I love my vibrator, and I have a stack of rechargeable batteries, there is nothing as good as a big cock inside me; the blend of hardness with some give; not the hard plastic you have to warm up first; but a soft, warm, silky hardness that makes me salivate at the sight and smell of it. I was getting flushed just thinking of it, as I do when I get turned on. I realized Amanda was looking at me.