Playing with Fire

This story is based on what is going on in my life right now...only, I don't have the kahunas currently to act on it as the main character does!

Comments are welcome, as it may just become a chapter story...I'd love to know how the readers see it playing out...I guess we'll see how the summer unfolds...

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I knew I would be at home alone with the family out of town that night, so when he invited me for a drink after a long day at the office, I enthusiastically agreed. As I logged off and closed up the office shortly after five, I sent a text, "Leaving now."

"Meet me in the garage," came the quick response, and I smiled slightly, wondering if he had parked out of the mindful camera's sight. I grabbed my purse and left, heading quickly to the garage. Sure enough, I found his car, parked in the corner where no cameras could record or monitor.

I chuckled as I opened the passenger door, and teased, "You know, we have to stop meeting like this."

We had been playing with fire for months, but never done more than a quick petting session. He was a married colleague and those two attributes made what I was contemplating completely out-of-bounds. Yet here I was, in his car, ready to see where this would go, or where it would end.

He leaned over to kiss me, squeezing my hand at the same time. I looked up, into his face, unsure of his thoughts. I ended the kiss and leaned back into the plush seat, closing my eyes, wondering what the hell I was doing. While my mind was telling me this was a bad idea, my body was saying the opposite.

We headed to a nearby pub, where we had a delicious meal, and finished it with a drink. The conversation flowed smoothly, and my nerves were calmed with the second drink. As dessert finished, he asked if I had time for a quick drive. Agreeing, I bounded playfully to the car. He pulled out of the parking lot, and drove to a secluded spot in a nearby park. Turning off the ignition, he got out of the car and opened the trunk. From within, he grabbed a blanket, a bottle of red wine, and two plastic cups.

I laughed, teasing, "Classy!"

He laughed too, explaining it would have been tough to smuggle real glasses out of the house. "Hell, it was hard enough with the blanket!" I could imagine, and laughed along at the thought.

He led me through a path to a small clearing, and spread the blanket on the forest floor. As he opened and poured the wine, I sat on the blanket, quietly contemplating...

Handing me a glass, he relaxed beside me. I could feel the tension building as we chatted, neither quite sure where we wanted this to lead. I took a gulp of the wine to cover my awkwardness.

Never before had I been in this situation; not wanting to rush or go further than he was comfortable with, unsure of what he wanted from me. Knowing what he thought he wanted put me in the difficult position of judging how and where to stop. A position made more difficult because I was not sure I wanted to stop it, or would stop whatever this was, when it came right down to it. Yet still, it was not uncomfortable, and I found that a relief.

Growing somewhat giddy and bold in the late evening sunshine, I asked, "Wanna see something? I brought a surprise."

I opened my purse and held up the vibrating toy. Chuckling at the schoolboy grin, I lay back on the blanket, and placed the toy on my skirt, over my clit, and closed my eyes. I tried to get into it, but found I was too worried about other people around, about getting caught. He noticed, and asked what was wrong. I stilled the vibrator and started to explain. As I did, I heard voices approaching, and we quickly packed up to leave, both somewhat panicked and brought back to the reality of our situation.

We took a roundabout way through the forest back to the car, each silently lost in thought. As we got back to the car, I quietly asked, "Wanna just go back to my place?"

"Ummm, I'm not so sure about that, Jane. I mean, it is a bit more dangerous than here, isn't it? What about your neighbours?"

"My neighbours won't notice or care," I pleaded. After about fifteen minutes of cajoling and challenging, I convinced him it would be fine, and we headed out of the park. I stroked his thigh as he drove, knowing I was still turned on, feeling the desire within. He had turned quiet, and I felt I needed to curb my enthusiasm, to get my hormones under control. Nothing would happen. Nothing could happen. Nothing!

We pulled into the driveway, and I unlocked the door, leading him into my home. As he took a seat in the recliner, I handed him a beer from the fridge, and poured myself a shot of tequila. I turned on music and sat in the recliner beside him, separated by the small console built in to the La-Z-Boy loveseat. As I sipped on my tequila, he relaxed into the chair, putting his feet up while looking around. "This is nice...not quite what I had expected though, to be honest."

"What did you expect?" I asked.

After a long pause, he answered, "I guess I thought you would bring me home and finish what you started in the park."

"Ohhhh?" I teased, "You want to finish the show? Here, or upstairs?" "Here works. I think upstairs would be a little too much for me. I am already feeling like an interloper here."

I stood up, finishing my drink, and moved to kiss him. "Don't feel like an interloper, Richard. I am fine with you here. Sit up?" I asked.

He did so, and I moved to sit on him in the chair. As I hovered over him, he slid a hand beneath my skirt, feeling the wetness on my panties. I lowered my weight, pinning his hand between our bodies, and began to grind on to his hand. After only a moment's hesitation, he began to move his hand in rhythm against me. His touch, the alcohol, the whole situation turned me on...I relaxed, finally, and began rocking my body against him. I removed his hand, placing it on my breast, encouraging him on, and began to rock hard against him, feeling him grow beneath his jeans.

He, too, seemed to relax, and began to rock his hips against me, closing his eyes and roughly massaging my tits. I could tell he was turned on, and slowly backed off of him, sinking to my knees on the floor at his feet...

On my knees at his feet, I leaned in, rubbing my hands up his thighs, slowly massaging the flesh beneath. As I moved towards his upper thighs, my grip lightened so that I was barely running my fingertips across the denim. I brushed lightly across his groin, feeling the hardness beneath, and slowly increased the pressure of my fingers as I continued to stroke him slowly. He closed his eyes, focusing on the growing need within him, surprised at how easy he was finding this erotic enjoyment. Maybe it was not such a bad thing, after all...

In his mind, conflicting thoughts whirled. What about my wife? What if this goes sour? What if she gets attached? What if, what if, what if... He was pulled from his thoughts when he felt her hands reach for his belt, slowly undoing it. He opened his eyes, and watched silently as I undid his pants and slid my hands beneath his t-shirt. Is this the make or break moment, he wondered...

He closed his eyes again, and relaxed back, lifting his hips as I reached to lower his jeans.

"Oh, God, what am I doing?" he thought, but did not stop her.

Rather, he reached for her and pulled her into his arms, kissing her passionately. She returned his kiss with just as much intensity, and he gave himself up to the inevitable. He crushed her to him, allowing her tongue to explore his mouth, and decided he would go with it for now.

She made him feel alive, vibrant, wanted, and he liked that. She certainly turned him on, excited him, and he knew she enjoyed that as much as he.

Coming to that conclusion, he didn't stop her when she ended the kiss and moved her lips to his neck while reaching to remove his t-shirt. He found himself sitting in just his boxers as she planted soft kisses on his chest, working her lips down his body. He could feel himself twitch as her lips reached his stomach, knowing precisely where her lips were heading...

He felt his body still as my lips reached the elastic of his shorts. My hands reached for the top of them on each leg, and he willingly lifted his hips from the chair to allow me to disrobe him completely. I slowly removed his boxers, kissing first one thigh and then the other, following the boxers to his feet with my lips and tongue. At his feet, I slowly lifted first one, then the other, leaving him naked before me.

She looked up to him, with a teasing glance, and he felt himself get harder, just imagining what beautiful torture she had planned, waiting with anticipation for her next move.

With a grin, I closed my eyes, and began to feel my way up his body with my tongue, slowly licking my way up one leg while raking my fingernails against the other. Finally, my lips reached his upper thigh, and he inhaled sharply as my mouth wrapped around the head of his hard cock. To his surprise, I went motionless, and he found himself exhaling a small whimper of disappointment that he found unwarranted as my tongue began to circle the head. With a groan, he leaned back, enjoying the sensations I was provoking with my ministrations. He lost all sense as I continued.

There was nothing but her moist lips and smooth, hot tongue, slowly bringing him closer, making him squirm with delight.

Then suddenly, my mouth was gone, and he was left hard, wet, wanting more. He opened his eyes, and found me kneeling at his feet, unbuttoning my blouse, my eyes moving from his face to his hardness. He found himself smiling, blushing under the scrutiny of my eyes...

"Was that so bad?" I asked, continuing to unbutton, and then remove the shirt. He knew he should stop me, wanted to stop us both...

Instead, he sat forward, and as I let the blouse fall to the floor around me, he reached to unclasp my bra, removing it slowly, letting my breasts fall free. He leaned in to kiss one, and as he did, I leaned backwards, taking him with me to the floor. He did not stop me, and pressed into me, his mouth suckling on a hard nipple as I moaned beneath him. He slowly bit the hardened nipple, first gently, testing, increasing the pressure. He found himself oddly surprised that she seemed to enjoy this roughness. Frankly, it turned him on, and he moved to the other, treating it similarly. I arched my back, pushing my breast into him, signalling a desire for more. He moved to lie beside me, taking his weight off, but not his lips, never his lips...

He reached a hand to her skirt's hem, slowly raising it to her hips. A light brush against her hot flesh was like electricity, jolting through him. He liked that she moaned softly as he ran his fingertips along the damp cloth between her legs. He enjoyed more that she slowly moved her legs apart, making room for his exploration. He heeded the signals, and began to rub his hand against her once more, while his teeth pulled against the tender flesh of her nipple. He liked more the immediate reaction to his touch. She was cat-like, sensual, in the way her body moved in response to his touch. He had desired her for months, and now that she was beneath him, thrusting her hips to meet his hand, he was shocked to find his inner turmoil lessened. There was no thought of consequence, of tomorrow; there was only the two of them, in this moment of intimacy and pleasure.

Slowly exploring her, he found himself wanting - needing - to feel her wet flesh in his hands, needed to taste her, and he raised his mouth from her breast to remove the wet garment that stood in the way of his hand. Unlike her slow teasing, he removed her panties quickly, burying his head in her flesh, tasting her completely, hurriedly, like a man unleashed into a wilderness. He could not get enough of her, and reached his hands beneath her ass, tilting her up to allow better access to her. He devoured her flesh, nibbling, sucking, and running his tongue through places he had imagined for months. As her hands grasped his head, he felt the utter need to be inside her, and roughly moved his hand from under her ass to between her thighs. At the last moment, he reigned in his desire, and found himself slowly, gently working his way between her lips to the wetness beyond...

He tentatively pressed a finger against her, only to feel her body yield easily beneath him, finding his finger quickly inside the slippery smoothness. He started fingering her, taking his lips from her, sitting up to watch her reaction to his touch. She was letting him lead, and he wondered briefly if it was intentional, allowing him to find his comfort level.

As the thought left him, he asked. "Are you okay with this? I mean, you seem okay with, and I am really enjoying myself, but are you really okay with where this is going?" As he waited for her response, he watched his finger as it entered and left her body, covered in her juices. Fascinated, he slowed his pace, watching intently. Slowly, his mind caught on to the fact that she had not answered, and as he pushed his finger in deeply, he stopped. She looked up at him, questioning. "I need to know," he answered quietly.

"Yes, I am okay with this. Are you?"

Am I...? Wow, with that one question, he found himself stuck. Regretting, yet wanting more. He was terrified of the answer, for it did not bode well, either way. But in this moment, he found that he was absolutely okay with the situation. Maybe that would change with time, but he was determined to finish what had been started.

"I am more okay with this than I ever thought I would or could be," he replied quietly as he began to move inside her again. And surprisingly, he found truth in his words. He would deal with any consequences later. He needed this.

As he brought her closer to the brink with his hands, she stopped him, stood, taking his hand, and pulled him after her, leading him to her bedroom.

"I never have been fond of sex on the floor," I teased.

Inside her bedroom, he looked around. It was cozy, with reminders of her husband and family in the pictures on the dressers and wall. He felt a moment's hesitation, but she did not notice as she moved to sit him on the bed. She slowly removed her skirt, standing naked before him for mere seconds before pushing him down on the bed and crawling on top of him.

"I can't do this in this room," he thought. Oh, he certainly wanted to feel her enveloping him, but could he? With all these pictures of her and her happy family around, seemingly watching them?

"Uhhhh, Jane, I don't think I can do this," he blurted.

He could see her face fall with disappointment at his words, and rushed to reassure her.

"It is not you, not us...it's the pictures, the thoughts..."

"Oh."

A silence impregnated the room before she moved from the bed. He watched as she turned pictures face down on the dresser, and removed two family montages from the wall beside the bed.

"Better?" I asked.

He looked around the room, contemplating, and found that it actually was better. He wanted to fuck her, and the idea of doing so while images of her husband and children taunted him was not a good thought for him. He began to second-guess everything, doubts creeping into his thoughts...

Swiftly, as though sensing his reluctance and hesitation, she returned to the bed, and lowered her face to his lap, sucking deeply on him. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to forget the doubts and concerns, once more enjoying the sweet torture her mouth brought him. She removed her mouth, and reached to the headboard, grabbing and opening a condom. As she unravelled it over him, he sputtered, "Jane, I really can't do this!'

She paused, poised above his length, looked at him, and stated flatly, "Neither can I, Richard."

With that, she lowered her body onto his hardness, wrapping him in her heat. He could feel the tightness around him as she began to move up and down his length, and he groaned loudly as he gave up, reaching for her breasts. As she fucked him, he alternated between rolling and pinching her nipples between his fingers, and massaging her roughly. One part of him was mortified that it had gone this far, but another, larger part was telling him to relax, not think, feel, and enjoy the sensations.

As she began to increase her pace, his cautious side left him, leaving him wanting more and more. With pride, he watched as she grew closer, and he began bucking up into her depths while holding her hips, enjoying the sensations as he bottomed out inside her. He watched her face as she got closer, thinking how absolutely erotic she looked, tits bouncing as she raised and lowered herself on him. He could see beads of sweat appearing as she continued her unrelenting pace, and he knew it would not be long for him.

"Stop! Please!" he begged, but she would not relent. He quivered, trying to slow everything down, knowing she had not yet cum, and knowing how close he was. This would be a one-time thing, and he wanted her to enjoy it, to be fully satisfied...he willed himself not to cum, wanting to wait for her...

She began to grind circles, sitting in his lap, and he moved a hand to where their bodies joined, finding her clit hard and slickly covered with her own juices. He began to circle her clit with the same intensity as her rotating hips, and quickly found her growing louder and more frantic. With a guttural purr, he could feel her pussy clenching around him as she threw her head back and moaned his name loudly...

"Oh, god, Richard, yes....fuck..."

He was hard-pressed to restrain himself as she came around him, but he selfishly needed to prolong this interlude. He knew as well as she that it would be only this, and he wanted to ensure that she would remember and think of it, and of him. As she collapsed, spent, on top of him, he manoeuvred from beneath her, leaving her face-down on the bed.

He moved behind her, and, stroking his fingers across her ass, lifted her hips in the air, entering her once more, immediately resuming a deep, fast rhythm. He could feel her pussy continue to clench around him with every stroke, and quickly found himself on the brink.

He lowered himself onto her back as he shot his seed into the synthetic between them, biting her shoulder to hold back the loud groans he worried would arouse her neighbours. It felt so good to release himself within her, even within the plastic sheath. He collapsed into her body, slowly rolling to his side and pulling her to her side against him as he slid the condom off.

"Shower?" he whispered into my ear.

"Mmmm, go ahead...I am going to lie here and enjoy the afterglow."

He slipped from the bed, and padded to the large tile shower. As he washed, lathering himself, he wondered what to do now. Should I leave now? Stay? He was unsure of the "protocol". Would she be upset if he left? Did he really want to? No, truthfully, he thought to himself, he wanted to crawl into the bed beside her and fall asleep with her pressed against his body. It was a comforting yet entirely uncomfortable thought.

Regrets ran rampant, and as he stepped from the shower, he determined to go home, slip into bed with his wife. He grabbed a towel, and hurriedly wiped the moisture and memory from his body. But, then he saw her as he stepped from the bathroom.

She was curled on her side, breathing deeply in sleep. He stepped to where he could watch her face, still slowly wicking the moisture from his body with the towel. She looked so peaceful and contented, with a small smile curling her lips, and he briefly wondered if it was of him she dreamt. He could not resist, he reached out to touch her, running his hands lovingly up her leg.

To his surprise, she reacted with a moan, rolling over and once more spreading her legs for him. More surprising to him, he could feel himself hardening as he watched her. He moved to the bedside, and crawled in beside her, snuggling close.