“You’ve got it all, Susan,” he had told her, and she had chosen to believe it.
She had lost herself with him, an energetic and inventive young lover who had broken into what she had felt was her closely bounded, ordered world and life. That she, as a freelance graphics artist and designer, had been in his company and worked with him had taken the slow, inexorable, bond with him into uncharted waters.
She had soon discovered that she needed Chris, had lusted after him. She had finally been taken by him when the opportunity presented itself and had conceded, as if on a whim, and then being surprised at her reluctance to let him go. A boundary had been crossed and she had accepted that he would leave her and with only her memories of what had happened, so suddenly, to cling to. As with business, so in life, events overtook you and you then moved on.
Their loving had been impetuous, ragingly tempestuous, and she knew from his ways with her that he was promiscuous; his behaviour in claiming her a sure sign that it might be the only time that she would know of him. But none of that mattered. He had beguiled her with his attentive ways, easy chatter, and consideration for his pal and her son, Clark, when a party to celebrate the success of their internet start-up company had gone wrong. Together, they had tended to her drunken son. He’d been so far gone that Chris had stayed with him, dozed in a chair until it seemed that Clark was settled, and his breathing had grown deeper. It was a sign that he now slept soundly.
Their shared intensity would fade; what she had pursued with him easy to recall but not explain…
♥
The door to her bedroom had been left ajar and she had heard his slow steps. They were followed by a discreet knock on the door that prompted her to get up.
“Is something wrong?” she called out to him.
“No Susan, Clark’s sleeping like a babe now…” she heard him say, his lightness of voice betraying what she felt too. He must be tired from the partying and then the aftermath. ‘I could do with a snack…hope it’s okay if I see to that?’
“I’ll do it…or help you. My night’s been broken up too.”
“All on account of me…”
“You didn’t hear me say it, did you? Anyway, Clark’s the one who is wrecked…”
She cinched a thin dressing gown over her soft blue silken nightdress as he led the way down the stairs, noted how he swept back his long sandy brown hair with large hands, Chris’s fingers slender. The bulk of this young man, she had often worked with, seemed to dwarf her as he stepped aside at the foot of the stairs.
He looked so darned good, still, even if his chinos and leaf-green coloured, mock-layered long-sleeved T-shirt were creased from sleeping in them, his suede deck shoes clacking softly on the boarded floor. He sure looked in excellent shape; what she could see of him deeply tanned, his carefully shaped and trimmed beard and moustache a sandy blonde.
“Lead on…I’m not sure of the way,” he smiled, his look on her unmistakably appraising. “Clark and I worked at the business out over your garage…I had no need to come in here.’
He spoke as if to put her at ease.
“Follow me, then…we deserve a few different moments after what we’ve been through, and you especially.”
“It won’t be happening again…”
“That’s true, or not here anyway…” She knew that Chris was following her, sensed his eyes were on her. Her knees felt weak at the thought of being alone with him, her son comatose upstairs. She stood by the fridge, reached up to the cupboard where the glasses were stored still uncertain what to do. The two glasses clinked against each other.
“Are you okay?” he asked, standing closer than she was happy about. “Let it all out, if you’re angry with me…that it’s the reason you’re still awake…and talking to me now.”
Chris just stood there, gazing at her and she looked around the expensive and fashionably designed kitchen, feeling awkward and uncertain in her thins silk nightwear, her bare feet seen under the hems of her nightdress, the tight cinch of her gown’s belt shaping her. He would see her differently, but she wasn’t mad at him. If anything, she was irritated with Chris for getting wrecked, and with her husband Frank for being away on business for two nights.
This is the moment, she thought, to speak out on what had been at work in her for some time. She saw a fleeting look of disbelief as she reached out to touch his face.
“I’ve gotten used to knowing you were around…working over there with Clark, over the garage. Soon you’ll both be gone…”
“But not out of mind…” he smiled, drawing closer still, quelling the disbelief that this was happening.
It made her wonder if Chris would kiss her, and she turned to look his way as Chris’s hands slowly moved over her waist until he drew her to him.
“Chris…listen?” she asked weakly.
“I…I always wondered about your warmth…whether I’d ever get to know of that and of you.”
Susan shivered under his slow touches, the caress of his thumbs as they rushed over the front of her dressing gown. The belt was loosened and, meeting no resistance from her to his touches, Chris caressed the tumble of her breasts, felt their weight and firmness through the fabric of her nightdress. He cupped their pendulous globe shapes, brushed his thumbs over her nipples that hardened They soon strained against the fabric; invited his wanton attention upon them.
Her breaths hitched in her throat as she shivered under the claims of his lips and fingers to them. “Are you ready to go there?”
Chris heard the doubt I her voice. ‘If…if you’ll let me?”
She would concede to his invitation, soon pressed her lips to his mouth to share in deepening kisses, his evident hunger to know of her felt in the press of his prick against her belly. He was hungry, fiercely gripped her buttocks and caressed them with the silken fabric of her nightdress as she fumbled for him.
“You…you… you know how it is for me now, Sandra!” he snorted through their kisses, her wantonness something ragingly new after she had given no hint of what she felt about him.
She felt the rush of wetness between her legs, the gnaw of a raging and aberrant longing for this young man. She didn’t want to wait, finesse moments of seduction or acceptance that this was how it was going to be, have to be between them. His deepening kisses, Chris’s hands in her hair to keep her lips to his, the flickering intrusions of his tongue in her mouth, made her feel that she was tumbling over the edge of control.
“Bring it to me…show me what you have for me!” The demands, uttered so brazenly, sounded strange to her
She had moved a hand to the bulge in his pants, knew that she would be taken right here and now, not in the comfort of her bed. She gripped and eased on him, heard Chris’s sharp intakes of breath, she shivering as he pushed her dressing gown off her body, then tugged at the skirt of her nightdress until his hands were on her naked thighs and hips, his long fingers brushing over her crack before pressing into her, awkwardly but insistently.