A Glorious Tease Ch. 04

I remember writing the part:

"She had two attractive males competing for her affection. And of course, he was winning, because he was available and I was not. But maybe it was close, and so she had to investigate a little. It seemed only natural to me."

I remember writing that part, and knowing I had lost her.

It was right there, and as sometimes happens, my conscious understanding of myself had to catch up with my subconscious understanding of myself.

I was not available.

I was so in love with Emma, but it could not result in anything other than being over, at some point. I fantasized about leaving my wife and kids for her. I wanted to run off to Thailand and start a new life with her, naked on the beach, misbehaving for days.

But I never let myself think about a real future. I wanted to be with her forever, I loved her like I could be with her forever, but I was always ignoring the fact that I couldn't.

The reality was that we couldn't be, because I couldn't be the same person if I left my wife and kids. I would be broken. I would be a shell of a man, overcome by remorse for the pain I caused my kids, and the mother of my children. I would be so, so broken. Emma couldn't go through that with me. I couldn't be worthy of Emma if I left my family. There is no use trying to bargain with reality.

And so I finally understood that Emma knew we couldn't be, and that she had the strength to end it because it would only be more painful the longer it went on. She read chapter 2, and said nothing memorable to me about it except that she liked it. And it did not provoke her to try and find me alone in the bathroom again.

She was over me.

***

Pain is a great teacher - I'm sure someone famous must have said that before. Eventually I understood what an asshole I am. How full of shit I am. But I never felt as bad as Emma felt. I'm just not that good. I've been a very good person at times in my life, and I've been a very bad person at various times in my life. During the time that I knew Emma, I was a little bit of both, but still more good than bad. I like that best. Not all good. I like a little trouble in my neighborhood.

When I'm mostly good, I do feel bad about being bad. I had a key realization that made me want to be a little bit of a better person. I realized that my best excuse for cheating, that I was committed to my marriage in ways that were more important to a mature marriage than sex, was bullshit. If Emma had only been about sex, it would have been true. But I loved Emma. The love was an accident, but nonetheless, it was betraying the most important commitment to marriage that there is. I had no excuse.

It's funny that it could go either way. For some, the fact that it was love could justify pursuing it, whereas for others, the fact that it was love should force them to stop. I am not really sure which kind of person Emma is: whether the fact that I loved her made it better or worse. Was my confession of love the wake-up call to her that she was falling for me and had to end it right away, or did the love make it last longer, and go further?

I know it was wrong, and in the end it hurt a lot, but I would do it all again with her. Maybe you think it means I haven't learned my lesson. Maybe it's just that the lesson was worth it.

***

It wasn't until I switched my focus from re-starting my affair with Emma, to re-establishing our friendship that I felt the full fury of being rejected.

The experience in the storage room had been two months before, and we hadn't touched since. Any flirtation or open discussion about our feelings for each other had declined steadily, and for the last week she had not only stopped smiling when I arrived at the gym, she had started frowning.

Frowning, every time she saw me. It went on for months.

Eventually, I confronted her. Actually, it was more of a counter attack. I had come to the gym on an off day, at an irregular time, because it coincided with her shift.

Just to see her. I just wanted to make Emma cum.

She was angry to see me, and asked me why I had come. And she was even angrier at my answer.

"I wanted to see you. I understand that it's over, but I still love seeing you."

"I hate seeing you." She said it with venom in her voice. How could she hurt me like that?

She saw the look on my face and qualified.

"I hate seeing you because it just reminds me of what I've done. I hate what I've done."

It hurt only slightly less than her hating me. Every kiss, every touch, every incredibly erotic thing that happened... Could she really wish she had never experienced any of it?

"I don't regret anything."

"I do."

Her regret made me furious. To deny herself the pleasure of remembering our first kiss fondly. To wish that even just THAT had not ever happened. I felt like she wished I had never been alive.

I left hating her. She was so unreasonable. She had been a little unfaithful to a guy she wasn't even married to, didn't even live with, who had broken up with her only a few months before, briefly, because he wasn't sure if he was ready to commit... and it made her hate me. And I loved her.

I knew we couldn't be together and so it was best not to go any further. I wanted to, but I accepted that we couldn't. But I couldn't live with her hating the sight of me.

However, I couldn't really do anything about it either.

***

I just kept coming to the gym. I just kept loving her. I just kept wanting to make Emma cum.

Months went by and the fury burned inside me. Simultaneous joy at seeing her, and fury that she hated seeing me. I continued on, not trying anything. Just trying to be friends. Before everything, I had loved her friendship and I just wanted that back.

But she would not be friends. She ignored me. She kept on frowning, every time I came to the gym.

It hurt so much.

Every time.

***

I started writing again. Angry writing. I couldn't finish anything. I wanted to write something to hurt her. I wanted to write something that would make her feel as hopeless as I felt. To make her want in futility. To make her desperate to have something that she couldn't have, just like I could not have her. She had taken herself away from me, and in revenge I wanted to dangle something in front of her, to introduce a desire in her that could never be fulfilled.

But I couldn't, yet. Everything hurt too much. I couldn't write about her.

I had dried up, in my fury.

I felt like a coward. I felt like I was failing to face something important. I struggled with my anger. I knew she didn't deserve it.

And I needed to write about her again. I needed to remember it all. What if I forgot something? What if I forgot her real name? I did not want to forget anything about her. There were so many moments I never wanted to forget.

Like that time, early on, before I had ever sent her any writing, before we even had that first kiss. I was leaving the gym and she was standing beside the counter at the main entrance, talking to her colleagues. The counter was about chest high, and she was on my side of the counter as I walked past her, with her colleagues on the other side. She looked at me as I walked past her, and I saw all this physical affection in her eyes and it emboldened me.

As I walked past, right in front of her colleagues, who were oblivious because of the height of the counter, I slipped my hand along her belly. A caress. A statement of intimacy. An overwhelming need to touch her accompanied by the knowledge that I could. Brief but not rushed. It was the most confident action I have ever taken with a woman I was not already involved with. I love who I was at that moment.

I won't forget it.

***

I let go of the anger and let my love drive my writing again. It hurt, but it also felt good. Eventually I finished chapter 3 of "A Glorious Tease". It wasn't a seduction this time. It wasn't even really for her. It was for me. It was a way to relive it, to memorize it; a way to glorify it. I never told her about chapter 3.

At one point early on, chapter 3 held the number 1 spot on the Literocita.com "Erotic Couplings" category all-time list. I was very proud. But I never told her. It felt so important that my tribute to Emma and I was so appreciated, but I never told her. I wanted her to know, but I never told her. My silence was my commitment to friendship, my commitment to the idea that if we could just be friends, I would never try to seduce her again.

But she didn't know that, or if she did, she never let me know she knew about chapter 3. She just kept pushing me away. She kept frowning at me, unhappy to see me. Fine. No deal.

***

One day I would leave the Netherlands, and I would tell her about chapter 3.

The future made it hurt even more. One day I would leave the Netherlands. Would she be happy to see me go? I fantasized about one last kiss. About a thaw between us. That when I was going to be out of her life forever, she might share herself with me for just a last little while before I left.

That she might admit she knew about chapter 3. That she might kiss me goodbye. That we might have a walk together in the sun. A moment. I imagined everything from three Dutch kisses to an afternoon in a hotel room. I tortured myself. I made fun of myself. One last teasing game of flashing. A goodbye present that was just letting me kiss her nipple, or a 3 second dick squeeze. Everything, anything. I loved her.

But into the future, she frowned and frowned and frowned.

***

December came more months later. It had been over a year since anything had happened between us, and I continued to see her four mornings a week that whole time, always smiling at her, always happy to see her, always well-behaved, and always only secretly wanting to make her cum. It was Christmas and so much time had passed.

She had begun to soften just slightly. She was still always frowning at me, but she would talk to me now, a little bit, about fitness, about general stuff, about nothing. But it was important to me because every once in a while I could get her to crack a smile. Getting her to smile when she was always frowning was almost as good as making her cum.

That slight softening gave me hope. It was December 23, and we would not see each other during vacation time. I came to her desk to say goodbye.

"Can we have a Christmas hug?"

"No."

No hug for me. I loved her.

No hug for me. I just wanted to be friends again.

No hug for me.

She wouldn't even hug me. I still had so much I wanted to say, but only three things that I could say right then.

"Ok then, Merry Christmas."

She nodded.

"Happy New Year."

She nodded again.

"Fuck you."

She smiled.

And that was it.

Epilogue

Another year later, my time in Amsterdam was ending. We did eventually become friends again, once you knew I was definitely leaving. The flirtation never fully returned but there were flashes of it here and there... I had one week left of knowing you, and you told me where and when you were going to be naked.

It was said in passing, trying to appear off-hand, natural, but it was information you wanted me to have. And to use. You were going to try out a new sauna, just a few blocks from the gym. We had talked about how saunas are coed and naked in the Netherlands, something I found so provocative. Everyone claimed it was not sexual, but then, there you were wanting me in that sauna with you...

But you told me you were going to the sauna with your boyfriend. Was it a challenge? A dare? I knew you wanted me to show up, but I couldn't acknowledge that I knew you. This wasn't a chance for us to be alone together, it was just one last chance to be naked together. And you wanted to see if I would grow for you, there in that sauna, with other strangers right next to me.

You and your boyfriend were already there when I came in. The smell of damp, warm cedar wood filled my nose and a blast of steam rushed out against my face as I opened the door. I was so tuned to you that I knew you were in the room without even seeing you clearly - in my peripheral vision on the lower bench to my right, sitting naked beside a naked man, steam swirling around you.

The sauna had benches at three heights, on three sides of the room with the heater beside the entrance. My breath caught in my throat as I looked at your boyfriend, briefly, then at you even more briefly, trying not to show recognition.

You sat on your towel, leaning back a bit to rest your elbows on the elevated bench behind you, with just a little distance between you and your boyfriend to let the hot air circulate. Your shoulders were pulled back a bit, raising your breasts to rest softly on your chest, rising and falling with your deep, already quickening breaths. Your quick intake of air when I came in made it clear how excited and pleased you were that I came, but I don't think your boyfriend noticed.

I had to look away. I was already swelling under my towel, and now as my eyes searched out a place to sit, I noticed that there were two other people sitting together on the top bench of the wall facing the door.

They were girls in their mid-twenties just chatting in the sauna, naked. They were good looking, and I could tell they noticed me come in. I could tell they expected me to spend the next twenty minutes trying to look at them without being obvious. But they were noticeable to me only because of the fact that they were on that one side, and that made it all the more natural for me to sit right across from you.

I sat down on the lowest bench and unwrapped my towel, laying it out underneath me. My dick was engorged, but not standing straight up yet, which just made me look really large, rather than really horny. I took a deep breath, and tried to will it not to get any harder.

I was confident. I looked good. I was as fit as ever, and tanned from two weeks surfing in southwestern France. My abdominal muscles were tight in nervous exhilaration.

My eyes came back to you and you held them. Your boyfriend's eyes were closed for a moment, and you knew it. You knew you could tease in secret at that moment. And you gave me the smallest smile, and shifted your legs, just to draw my eyes down to your naked slit, shaven and exposed, blushing in the heat.

I started to get bigger, and looked away. One of the other girls lost her train of thought in her conversation. Had she noticed that bit of play between us? Was she wondering what your story was, or was it just my swollen dick that gave her pause?

You say something in Dutch to your boyfriend and he mumbles something back, opening his eyes. You turn to each other for a quick kiss on the lips, but your lips are wet and open and the kiss has more hunger than he expected. You rest your hand on his thigh and he looks at you in surprise, a startled build-up of arousal beginning in him.

He looks around and I avoid his eyes, pretending I'm more preoccupied with trying not to stare at the other girls. You tickle his thigh a bit, trailing your fingers up and down lightly, close to his penis. And you kiss him again, this time playfully on his neck as he surveys the room.

He says something quietly, I can hear the question mark in his tone, and I can hear his arousal. You whisper something back, making him raise his eyebrows and smile. He swallows nervously, and you go on tickling his leg.

It's driving me crazy. I want to be over there, across the distance between us, with you. I want to be that close to you. I want you to be touching me, and kissing me. I'm jealous, but I know that you're doing some of this for me.

You're seducing me.

You're seducing us both.

The chatter from the other two girls gets more halting, and a little louder and more forced. They want to be able to ignore the three of us, but they can't. Because my dick is swelling and straining toward you, and your boyfriend's is growing too, as you let your fingertips get closer and closer with every caress to where his penis rests against his inner thigh.

Your legs are open just slightly beyond the mark that would be considered within the boundaries of appropriate in a public sauna, and I can see you are wet. Your labia are opening on their own, pink and slippery. My eyes lift from your pussy to meet your gaze again, just as your boyfriend sighs and leans in to kiss your shoulder affectionately. You smile at me, his lips on your skin.

He's not sure what is happening, but he likes what you're doing. You have a sly smile on your face, coy and naughty. You open your mouth to pant out a hot breath of passion, keeping your eyes connected to mine as long as you can before your boyfriend looks to your face and speaks again.

I know he says something harmless. Something meant to placate the other people in the sauna, to show you're are just a normal couple, a little affectionate today, but not about to do something crazy. He may have been suggesting you leave soon, but I don't know. I wish he would leave me with you. I'd get as close to you as possible. I'd send the other girls away.

And then you send the other girls away.

Not with words; you send them away with action: you take it farther with your boyfriend. You let the backs of your fingers stroke down the length of his semi-erect cock, and he jumps in surprise and you giggle, and it's enough to send the other girls out the door. They think you are a slut, but who cares? They're mostly pissed that neither man in the room gave them any hint of attention.

It was all about you.

And now your boyfriend is really not sure what is happening. Because you've been so brazen, and I'm still there, and he looks at me as you brush against his penis again, and I pretend I'm not watching you, but he sees my dick, and he knows that what you are doing is turning me on.

His posture changes, and his face hardens a bit, as he begins to feel he doesn't like the situation, but just before he speaks you give him a hot wet kiss again, and wrap your fingers firmly around his penis, stroking him slowly.

You communicate so much sensuality with that kiss. He is seduced. Maybe he would never allow this to happen on an ordinary day, but today he succumbs. Your desire burns so hot and he can't deny it, he has to see where it leads, and so he kisses you back, and puts his hand on your thigh, and now you are making out, naked, in front of me.

Your kiss breaks and he moans. You keep stroking him, and he lowers his head to kiss your neck, eyes closed, unable to believe how you've taken control of him. Your head tilts back to give him better access to your neck, and your eyes meet mine again. You want to smile at me but you're too turned on now, all your face can communicate is the overpowering arousal, the lust for both of us.

My cock is fully hard and straining and I can't help but grasp it, stroking as I watch you getting kissed, watch your hand on his dick, watch you watch me, naked. Your eyes go to my cock and you whimper slightly. You want it all, so badly. You can't wait anymore. You grab your boyfriend by either side of the face and bring his lips back to yours, kissing him with all that insistent sexuality. He is shaking with the potency of it.

You turn into him, kissing his neck, his chest, his nipple, lowering down his body, turning your beautiful ass to me as you bend to lick and nibble down his belly. He looks at me, for a second, seeing my hand on my hard cock. His last bit of will to resist the situation wells up into his eyes and then disappears completely as your mouth covers his cock. He moans deeply, his head falling backward and his eyes closing.