An adult stories – The Dinner by tales_of_passion,tales_of_passion This is based on a true story. I only say ‘based on’ because everything that happened here took place more than fifteen years ago when I was in my mid-twenties (as are all of the other characters) and, to be honest, I simply can’t remember every detail, so I’ve used some artistic license to fill in the gaps wherever necessary. But the events, the emotions, the people and the places are true, reconstructed where necessary from my diary at the time, my messages, my emails and my photos, and have stuck with me like it was yesterday. My then boyfriend, now husband, doesn’t know about most of this, so here’s hoping he’s not a reader…
I hope you enjoy.
“So, what are you up to this weekend then?”
“Oh, nothing much planned,” I replied. “Some of us going for dinner on Friday night, apart from that though the weekend is pretty free. Probably go to the beach at some point, maybe have a swim. Just a relaxed one really.”
“That sounds nice, I’ve got this stag do all weekend that I’m dreading but guess I’ll enjoy when I’m there.”
A stag do… great. He didn’t think I knew but knowing his friends a stag do equalled lots of alcohol and, inevitably, ending up at a lap dancing club somewhere.
“You’ll have a great time, you always do. Just, you know, please steer clear of some of the less savoury activities your friends might want to do.”
A long distance relationship could be tough. We’d been together since university but had been apart now for two months as my job had taken me for a six month rotation overseas to an exotic, hot climate but also a completely different time zone. During the week our opportunities to talk freely were limited as usually one or other of us was either at work or asleep when the other wanted to talk, so we had to grab the opportunities when we could.
“Of course I will, I promise I’ll be careful. I’m counting the minutes already for my flight out to visit you, I miss you. Four weeks from now feels like ages.”
“I miss you too.”
If he only knew. We could talk, we could message, but what I missed so much, more than anything, was being with him and being touched by him. I hated to admit it to myself, but I was longing for the physical side even more than the emotional side, I needed him in me. My plans for his visit were, to a great extent, not going far beyond the bedroom. We had phone sex whenever we could but that was no replacement, and I’d got into the habit of at least daily touching myself to release some of the sexual frustration.
“So, your dinner tomorrow night. Who and where?”
“It’s at one of the top hotels here, they’ve got a famous chef visiting and doing a tasting menu. Should be fantastic, I’m really looking forward to the food.”
“Sounds great, and who’s going?”
“Oh, just a friend through work.”
“A friend through work?”
“Yeah.”
“I feel like you don’t want to tell me who…”
“Well… you can guess who.”
“Him again?”
“Who?”
“Your Partner in Crime…”
“…yeah”
My Partner in Crime was another person out on a six month overseas rotation with a different company, and he and I had made a deal early on that (purely platonically) we’d be each other’s plus one for any of the events that you’d take a date or your partner to when at home. It had worked pretty well, we’d been to various social events over the last couple of months which would otherwise have been tricky on our own, the only thing was that I knew my boyfriend at home was starting to get a bit jealous about the amount of time we were spending together as a pair. My flatmate had jokingly started to refer to him as my Partner in Crime and the nickname had stuck – so much so that in our group of friends I was referred to as the Partner in Crime in his presence as well.
“I’ll be honest, to me your dinner tomorrow sounds like a date rather than a plus one sort of thing…”
“Hmm… no, it isn’t. Don’t get jealous. There’s load of other people we know going, so…”
“All at your table?”
“On other tables.”
“So, it’s a date. And you didn’t want to tell me who with.”
“No, not at all. I love you, I’m not going to go on a date with someone else. You don’t need to worry. Trust me.”
“I’m sorry, I just miss you, that’s all. I can’t wait to see you. I need to go, shall we try to speak over the weekend? Depends on the stag do when.”
“Yeah, sounds good – call me whenever. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The call ended and I sat back on my bed. When he’d called it a date he hit a nerve, I’ll be honest. I’ve always prided myself on my loyalty and faithfulness to people, and aside from one little wobble when I was in my teens, I’d always been 100% faithful to each boyfriend over the years. To be honest, I loved him, but I was kind of pissed off by what he’d said.
My boyfriend and I had always skirted around the question of what would or wouldn’t be cheating. Personally, I was pretty much zero tolerance – I’d made it clear early on when we started going out that if he even kissed another girl, let alone anything more, then that would likely be us finished. He was more relaxed, and let on at various points that while he’d draw a line at me sleeping with someone else (albeit it was a secret fantasy of his) he wouldn’t mind too much if I was to kiss another man while I was drunk, and he’d given me a lifelong hall pass to do whatever I wanted with another woman (a pass that I’d played once a couple of years back to my boyfriend’s delight when I told him about it, and hoped to play again at some point). Clearly though whatever he thought this dinner could be crossed a line for him somewhere, I suspected more than anything because of jealousy – he’d love to be there having dinner with me, not some other man.
I walked out of the bedroom to the living room of my shared apartment and sat down on the sofa. Lady Luck had been smiling on me when she was deciding who would live with who on this rotation, and so I’d fallen on my feet to find myself sharing with someone who despite being from a different country (she was from the Netherlands, I’m from the UK) shared a lot of interests in common, but also crucially was very easy going company. I think, or at least hope, that she thought the same about me. And luckily her English was excellent, with only the slightest accent, as my Dutch was non-existent.
My flatmate was in the living room already, and she could tell that something had annoyed me.
“What’s up?”
“It’s this dinner tomorrow. I was really looking forward to it, and now my boyfriend has accused me of going on a date rather than, well, just having some dinner with my Partner in Crime.”
“Are you?”
“No! Of course not, I wouldn’t do something like that. I just like good food and good company with it, there’s nothing beyond that.”
“Ok… it’s just that, have you seen the way he looks at you?”
“No… what do you mean?”
“Well, when you’re not looking, I’ve often seen him stealing glances at you. And he talks about you all the time. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that he has designs on the two of you not being strictly platonic for ever…”
“Really? I honestly hadn’t noticed. Are you sure?”
“99%, yes.”
I sat back and let that sink in for a minute. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
My flatmate got up to leave the room, and as she walked out I asked “Do you think I should cancel?”
“Well, that really comes down to you. Is there maybe a little part of you that also wants a date? Somewhere deep down? He’s a great looking guy and you and him clearly have some chemistry.”
“We do?”
“Yeah, you flirt with him all the time. Seriously, we all can see it.”
Thinking about it, I replied, “I suppose we do, but it’s all harmless fun. I’m just worried about what my boyfriend thinks.”
“Look,” she said. “He’s not here. He’s thousands of miles away. And he doesn’t own you. You can enjoy your dinner tomorrow without worrying about what he thinks. And who knows, if there is a spark with your Partner in Crime that’s fine – it’s not illegal to be attracted to another person. And if that spark turns into something more then, well, you only live once and no one needs to know…”
“Are you serious? You think so?”
“We all have our secrets, we all have our skeletons in our closets. God knows I have and I’m sure you do too. Live a little. And what are you scared of? You like him, right?” I nodded. “I’ve seen you looking at him when we went to the beach, you’re definitely physically attracted to him, right?” I blushed and nodded again. “Would you be dating him if you didn’t have a boyfriend?”
“Probably.”
“Then just see how tomorrow night goes. It might be the night that changes your life, and if it isn’t they you’ve got a long term boyfriend sat at home anyway.”
“Maybe if my boyfriend wants to call it a date then in my head I will call it a date, and enjoy it like that.”
She laughed as she headed into her bedroom. “Plus of course you’ve already prepaid a small fortune upfront for the reservation, and I know you don’t like to waste money.”
That was true. I smiled back, “Looks like I’m going out to dinner tomorrow.”
As I lay in bed that night trying to sleep, I turned around in my mind what tomorrow night even was. Certainly, when we booked it, it was a great opportunity to have try excellent food in a nice location. But why had I invited my Partner in Crime rather than one of my other friends? Was there some part of me that subconsciously wanted to take him out for a test run in an actual date situation? Was there a part of me that was comparing him to my boyfriend and saw something I liked more? Certainly, there would have been no stigma attached to going with one of my female friends instead.
The more I thought about it the more I used the word ‘date’ in my head rather than ‘dinner’. I liked the sound of it.
I started thinking back to the last time I was dating, around five years before. Something that I’d always found useful was to think in advance of what I was prepared to do and how far I was prepared to go on that date if it was going well. That way, when the date inevitably started hinting at sex, I was clear in my mind as to what I did and did not want.
My golden rule as long as I’d been dating was no sex on the first date. A kiss, yes, a lot of kissing yes, maybe even some hands roaming around under clothes, yes, but any form of sex was a no, as was going back to his place. I’d always thought it was important to wait until at least the second or third date for sex, but to be honest once we’d got that far there was usually not much holding back.
Tomorrow night’s date was tricky. Clearly I wasn’t going to have sex with him, whatever happened. If it went amazingly well and ended up being the date that changed my life as my flatmate had called it then who knew with further dates? But there would be time for that, there was absolutely no way that would be happening on my first date. Zero chance. It would not be right with my boyfriend, even if he was thousands of miles away.
How about the other stuff though? As I thought it through, I started to daydream about my Partner in Crime’s hands caressing my breasts and reaching down between my legs, while my hand went between his. Hot, arousing, yes. Something that I could do on a first date, no.
Which left kissing. Would I let him kiss me? Would I kiss him? Again, my mind started to wander, and I realised that kissing was possibly the thing that I’d missed most over the last couple of months. You can touch yourself, you can stroke yourself, but you can’t kiss yourself.
And kissing, ultimately, was low risk when it came to my boyfriend. He’d told me himself that he didn’t really have a problem with random, drunken making out. So even if it was something that he somehow found out about it wouldn’t be a relationship ender – worst case I could fix it by being suitably contrite, maybe offering a sweetener of something kinky one night when he visited or a week of blow jobs as a way to make it up to him. Certainly a controllable problem.
Thinking about these permutations had had the effect that you’d expect, and I was pretty aroused. Pretty much every night I’d get myself off to sleep by touching myself, trying to fill the need I had for real sex in the best way that I could. I had various fantasies that worked for me, mostly involving my boyfriend but, I’ll admit, more than a few times involving my Partner in Crime (sometimes both of them) and, for when I was feeling a bit more kinky, one involving me, one of my best (female) friends from back home that I’d always had a secret lady crush on and a pair of handcuffs.
Tonight though, as I touched myself, I built a new fantasy, one where I’d kissed my Partner in Crime, and was making it up to my boyfriend by giving him the best blowjob I could. I could feel the tension building in me as I imagined working my way up and down his cock, but just as I was getting close the image in my mind shifted from my boyfriend to my Partner in Crime. I should have stopped and reset but the vision was so passionate, so hot, that I couldn’t. And even if I’d wanted to, my residual annoyance with our call earlier meant that I wanted to take some small revenge. As my hand kept on moving, I rolled on to my front and buried my face in my pillow as a powerful orgasm ripped through me, my moans muffled by the pillow while I imagined my Partner in Crime cumming in my mouth.
Wow. That was something else. And also, oh shit. Because certainly oral sex was not on the cards for tomorrow night. No way.
I still felt so horny that I needed release again, so started to play with myself some more. This time, feeling so aroused, I went straight to my kinkier fantasy. As I got to the part though where she’s handcuffed my wrists to the bedframe and is going down on me, I imagined my Partner in Crime walking in naked and starting to make love to her, his cock filling her exquisitely while he looked into my eyes, and him cumming into her while she came, and her moaning into my pussy triggering my own orgasm. The image was so vivid that I came again hard and couldn’t silence the moans that came out.
Hmm… I thought as I recovered from my second orgasm. There’s definitely some attraction there.
As I drifted off to sleep with various thoughts swirling through my head, I resolved one thing – yes, kissing on our date tomorrow was fine. I’d happily make out with him. A hard no though was sex, I’d need to save that for my fantasies. As for hands roaming under clothes well, also a no but… maybe if the date went really, spectacularly well?
The next morning I woke up with butterflies in my stomach. I couldn’t believe it, I was nervous. Having shifted in my head from ‘dinner with a friend’ to ‘date’ the nerves that I used to feel back when I was dating were creeping up.
Having showered and got dressed for work, I grabbed some breakfast to eat on the 10 minute walk to work. As usual my flatmate walked with me which was usually a great opportunity to chat.
This morning though I was feeling pensive, my nerves pretty obvious. “Are you ok?” she asked as we left our apartment building.
I smiled, “Yes… it’s just I thought a lot last night about our chat before we went to bed.”
“…and?” she asked.
I blushed. “Tonight’s a date.” Saying it out loud felt worse somehow, and I avoided eye contact with her.
She stopped in her tracks and put her hand on my arm so that I stopped too. “Really?”
I looked at her and nodded. “Yes. I only live once, right? I think that’s what you said.”
“How exciting!” she paused as we continued walking. “Are you going to put out?”
“What?!” I replied.
She laughed. “Don’t act so prudish. You’re a grown woman. Are you going to put out?”
I sighed. “Well, I thought about it a lot last night.”
Laughing more, she said “Yes, I heard.”
My face went bright red. Feigning ignorance I replied, “Heard what?”
“You know… our walls are quite thin, and my bed is just the other side from yours after all. But that’s fine, I’m sure you hear me sometimes too if that makes you feel better.”
“So, like I say I thought about it a lot last night, not like that. I’m thinking that if it goes well then making out is fine, I can swing that with my boyfriend if need be, but nothing further.”
“Wow, you’ve given it a lot of thought.”
“Do you think that’s ok?”
“Yeah, of course. You’re a grown woman. If you’re out tonight and you want to kiss him then you should. To be honest, if you want to fuck him all over our flat then you should too, just let me know in advance so I can make myself scarce.”
“I’m not doing that, no way. Making out I can live with, sex is a no-no while I’m with someone else.”
“Sounds fair. Do you want my advice?”
“Always. So long as it’s not to sleep with him.”
“I had a few times where I went out on dates and set myself similar boundaries. But then in the heat of the moment I got caught up and ended up sleeping with someone that I regretted the next day. To stop that, what I do is wear my worst, least sexy, most mismatched underwear ever under whatever clothes I’ve got on. That way, if it starts heading in that direction, you’ll remember and be so mortified that you don’t do it. It works like a charm for me.”
“Hmm… that’s not a bad idea actually. Thanks.”
We walked on, changing the topic to her weekend away with one of our friends. I was pretty jealous as the two of them were going to a 5 star beach resort a short flight away, flying late that night and coming back on Sunday.
“I’m just hoping she loosens up a bit while we’re away,” my friend confided in me, referring to the friend she was going away with. “She can tend to be a bit too sensible, and I’m looking forward to some fun.” The friend was in a similar situation to me, dating a long term boyfriend that was at home, but hadn’t really managed to let her hair down in the way that I’d learned to.
“Fun? As in fun hanging out? Or fun meeting a guy?”
She laughed, “Maybe a bit of both…”
“Well, you’ve got your own room right? So, if you want to find a guy and fuck him all over your room then you should!” I teased, echoing her own words from a few moments before.
We reached our offices and as we went our separate ways to the separate teams that we each worked in, she asked, “Are you heading home after work to get ready or going straight on your date from here?”
“Shhh… don’t call it that here,” I whispered. Speaking at a normal volume, “Yes, I’m going to head home first. Will you be around?”
“Yes, I’ll be back home before I go to the airport. See you later!”
The work day passed as working days often do – slowly but we got there in the end. We had a team lunch which was a nice break, and it was someone’s birthday so there was cake to share in the afternoon.
As it got past 5pm I went to leave, and the nerves started to kick in again. Suddenly tonight’s date was getting very real.
When I got home I checked my phone and say a text message from my Partner in Crime:
“Looking forward to dinner later, just got out of the shower and wondering what I need to wear. Is there a dress code?”
Just got out of the shower. Which meant he was probably naked when he sent it. An image flashed in to my mind, and I felt just the smallest hint of arousal starting to stir in me. Just got out of the shower was such gratuitous information, it felt like he was flirting a little with that message? Two can play at that game, as I replied:
“Me too. Dress code is formal, so I guess suit and tie? What do you reckon for me? I’m in the bath at the moment but have two dresses in mind.”
See how he likes that. I call your got out of the shower and raise you an I’m in the bath. Hopefully that had got his imagination going.
“Ok, suit sounds good. White shirt ok? I’m getting a bit cold standing here in only my boxer shorts while I decide. Also, tell me about those dresses?”
Standing in only his boxer shorts. I’d seen him a couple of times at the beach in only his swimming shorts, and he had a hell of a body. I knew that he worked out and exercise regularly and couldn’t help noticing the muscles in his abdomen in particular. The mental image built on the arousal just a little bit more.
“Yeah, white shirt sounds good. I’m just getting myself dry now, about to put on my underwear. Dress 1 is a black cocktail dress with high front and twist that goes round my neck, goes down to my calves but with a slit up one side. Worn with high heeled shoes. Dress 2 is a blue mini dress, goes about halfway down my thighs, worn with knee length boots.”
Did I go too far? This was pretty obvious flirting now. I mean pretty lame flirting, but it was certainly getting my attention.
“You’d better get that underwear on quickly, don’t want you getting cold. Both dresses sound great, how about option 1?”
I quickly replied:
“Deal, option 1 it is. See you soon x”
As soon as I’d hit send I realised I’d put an ‘x’ at the end of the text. Shit. I didn’t mean to do that. I’d never signed off texts to him before with it and this was going to give him the wrong impression, I’d just written it by instinct.
“See you soon, looking forward to it x”
Right, I’d need to do something about that before my boyfriend comes to visit. I don’t think texts popping up on my phone from another guy with an ‘x’ at the end would go down very well. But that was a problem for another day.
I spent the next half an hour getting myself ready, actually having a shower rather than a pretend bath, putting my make up on (not too much, just a touch but with a killer lipstick that I saved for special occasions), perfume, dress option 1. I followed my flatmate’s advice though and chose the biggest, most unattractive underwear I could find and a bra that, while not nice to look at, I thought gave the best support and shape to my breasts.
I came out of my bedroom and my flatmate called out from her room, “Are you heading off on your date now?” She had a smile on her face as she said it, I think she was enjoying teasing me about it.
“Yeah, just heading down to catch a taxi. What do you think?” As I said it, I did a little twirl for her.
“Wow. He’d better look out, you look hot. Really hot.” She smiled again. “So hot that if he doesn’t sleep with you then I might when I get home on Sunday.”
I knew she was joking, that was just her way of emphasising the point. But it was nice to be told that I was looking good.
“I followed your advice with the underwear.” I stopped to give her a quick hug. “Have a great trip.”
“Good, the underwear never fails. Enjoy and I’ll look forward to you telling me about it on Sunday.”
When I got out of the taxi at the hotel where the dinner was being held, the nerves had really started to kick in. What was I doing? Should I have cancelled?
Too late now. I walked through into the lobby and spotted the bar where we’d agreed to meet for a pre-dinner drink. My Partner in Crime was already there, seated at a table out on a terrace overlooking the sea. When he saw me he rose to greet me, giving me a quick peck on the cheek in greeting which I returned. He smelled good.
He then stood back to look at what I was wearing. “Wow, I shouldn’t say this but you look incredible. Option 1 was definitely the right one.” He looked me up and down, and when I turned to sit down I saw him subtly checking out my ass and breasts. I could hardly object as I’d planted the idea earlier of me naked with those texts.
“You’re looking not so bad yourself,” I responded. That was an understatement. The white shirt fitted him perfectly, accentuating his physique while also emphasising his muscles underneath. Meanwhile his suit trousers (I snuck a peak when he turned to sit) showed off what looked like a muscular butt nicely.
He ordered two glasses of champagne, and as I drank mine (probably a bit too quickly) I relaxed. This was really pleasant. Conversation flowed about this and that, he asked after my flatmate, we talked about our hopes for dinner and so on. We both realised as well that we didn’t have much on the next day so we could really enjoy the wine with dinner.
Maybe half an hour later we went through to the restaurant and proceeded to have an incredible meal. There were eight courses brought out at a steady pace throughout the evening, each accompanied by a different glass of wine. I did my best to pace myself, but I realised halfway through that I was getting pretty tipsy already. The setting was also great, with an ambience and lighting where you felt like the two of you at your table were the only people in world while you talked. Very romantic. I don’t think my boyfriend would have approved…
Conversation was great as I knew it would be. We got on really well and talked about everything, and as my flatmate had observed there was certainly some flirting going on.
As we got towards the latter stages of the meal, I steered the conversation on to his love life. He’d not often been forthcoming about it, and I was curious.
“So, tell me about your last girlfriend?” I asked.
He smiled, which looked good on him. Probably the effect of all that wine as much as anything, but when he smiled this time I certainly felt a little jump in my heartrate.
“What’s to tell?” he replied. “I got together with her when we were at school, and we stayed together throughout university even though we went to different places. We kept going but split up a few months ago – she’d decided that she wasn’t ready to settle down without having experienced more in life first, and me moving over here was a natural time to do it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, do you miss her?” I reached out my hand to take hold of his to comfort him.
“Thanks, yes I do but I’ve moved on.” He smiled again, moving his hand to hold mine.
We talked some more about her, then he asked about my love life, and I explained about my boyfriend but also how I’d had various boyfriends throughout school and university before.
“So, what’s your number?” he asked.
“My number? You mean how many people I’ve, you knowed with? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours!”
“Ok, mine is easy actually. One.”
Dammit, that was obvious. “I should have guessed… mine is a bit more. How about you guess?”
“That’s a lose-lose situation for me,” he laughed. “Either I guess too high and you’re insulted, or I guess too low and you’re insulted.”
“Come on, I won’t be insulted, I promise.”
“Ok, I’m going to go with… seven?”
“Not bad, but I’ve got to admit I’m a little higher. Eleven, I think. Not too many?”
“No, not at all. Eleven means you’re experienced, you know what you’re doing, but you’re still picky!”
I blushed a little at that – I certainly didn’t think of myself as experienced.
“So, with all your experience,” he continued, “I think we should play a little game.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he said this, and I suspect both for him and me the wine was loosening our tongues quite a bit.
“Ok…”
“So, tell me three things: (a) your favourite position from all of your experience, (b) the one, absolute hottest thing you’ve done with any one of them, and (c) your secret fantasy that you’ve never told a soul.”
“Ok, I’m game. But you’ve got to tell me yours as well. Deal?”
“Ok. Your turn to go first.”
“That’s fair. Favourite position? Missionary.” I tried to act confident as I said it but looked away a little embarrassed.
“That’s a fun one, definitely. Why?”
“You didn’t say I have to answer why!”
“It’s boring otherwise,” he laughed.
“Ok, why missionary… well, I like the contact across my whole body, I like that I can kiss my partner while I do it, and I like that I can wrap my legs around them and really pull them into me.” Oh my god, I thought, did I just say that out loud?!
“Fair enough. Ok, my turn. Doggystyle. Without a doubt. I love the feeling of control, and the view. And it feels great.”
“Each to their own. It isn’t a position I’ve ever enjoyed particularly but I’m glad you like it.”
“It just means you’ve not been doing it right. How do you position yourself when you’re doing doggystyle?”
I blushed, was I really answering this? “Hands and knees like everyone? Sort of like I’m at right angles with everything?”
“Ah, there’s your mistake. This is something that my ex and I discovered by trial and error. What you want to do is have your legs spread out to each side at 45 degrees, it makes it more comfortable for the lady. And arch your back so that you’re braced.”
Legs spread at 45 degrees? Back arched? This was pretty racy for chat over dinner. “I’ll be sure to try that next time my boyfriend suggests it!” I replied. “Now it’s your turn to go first. Absolute hottest thing you did with your ex?”
“We experimented a bit with light bondage, so tying each other up, spanking, restraints and so on. So hot. There was one time where she had wrist cuffs attached to the headboard and ankle cuffs to the foot of the bed, we both had an incredible night… Sorry, I’ve overshared!”
“No, don’t worry,” I said as a mental image flashed through of me, spread eagled and bound to a bed with him making love to me. This talk was starting to get me pretty turned on.
“How about you?”
“This one will shock you,” I said.
“Try me.”
“Well, partner number eleven was someone I met not that long ago at a nightclub in London. This was while I was already with my boyfriend, and we had a night of mind blowing sex.” I was getting hot just thinking about it. “All night long, it was incredible. But it was just one night, I never saw her again.”
He paused. “Her?!”
I smiled, “Yeah. Shocked?”
“Yeah, absolutely.”
“You had lesbian sex with someone you met in a nightclub?”
“Yep. It was great.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “I’ll be honest, I’d like to try it again at some point.”
It was his turn to look a bit flustered. I’m guessing he was imagining me with another woman and liked what he saw.
“And you boyfriend was ok with it?”
“Yeah, he gave me a hall pass on the condition that I tell him about it. Seemed like a fair deal.”
“Wow. Ok, that was a good one. You think you know someone, I’d never have figured you for someone who did that. Your turn to go first again, secret fantasy?”
“Well, apart from just letting slip that I want a repeat performance with another woman which I’ve never told a soul before… My secret fantasy, I’m too shy to say…”
“…go on… your secret is safe with me.”
“I’d like to be dominated. I’m always quite dominant in my work life, and I don’t like to play with dominant and submissive roles in a relationship as I think it screws with the power dynamic. But one day I’d just like to dominated… taken hard.” Oh my god, did I just say that out loud?
I looked up at him and his face, well… I think it fair to say that he was thinking about something that probably involved me being taken hard.
“That’s… a good one. Wow. And you’ve never tried it?”
“No, never. But one day, yes. Now your turn?”
“Ok, this is kind of something from my bucket list… I feel a bit awkward saying it.” He lowered his voice and whispered, “Anal.”
I smiled, “Interesting one, why?”
“I’ve never tried it, my ex was never keen. And, to me, it feels like the most intimate, private act of lovemaking there could be. To be trusted by someone to go there and do that.”
Good answer. “As reasons go it’s a good one, and I think a much better one than a lot of guys have for it.”
“You’ve tried it then? You must have done with your experience.”
He’s asking me if I’ve tried anal? Over dinner? This was getting quite intimate. But I didn’t mind, with the wine and the evening my tongue was loosened. “Yes, with quite a few partners. It’s ok. I don’t mind it. There’s not a lot in it for the girl so when you find someone to try it with make sure that you’re paying attention to what they need too. But… I kind of like it, I suppose.”
He looked thoughtful. “Thanks, I appreciate that. So, now we now rather a lot more about each other than we did! Tell me about how you met your boyfriend?”
From there we talked and kept talking. The conversation went back and forth, but I could tell that one thing from our revelations to each other had stuck.
“Your night with another woman,” he said. “Your boyfriend really didn’t mind?”
“No, not at all. We’d agreed that I could have a pass any time to do anything with another woman, so it was just a case of seizing the opportunity when the time was right. He was completely cool with it.”
“Do you have a bit of an open relationship then?”
Hmmm… I could see where he was going with this. “Kind of. I don’t think he’d have any problem with me drunkenly kissing someone, but other things would be more of an issue.”
“Like…?”
“Well, an affair would be a big no. Some other stuff, all depends on context. Why?”
“Oh, no reason. Just curious.” Though the way he looked into my eyes at that point said otherwise.
We soon finished dinner, and when everything was done he asked, “Would you like me to arrange a taxi home for you?”
“Very kind, but, erm, I was wondering if you’d like to go for a drink now?”
“Sure, of course. That would be great. Where?”
“Well, there’s the beach bar and club downstairs which I’ve heard is pretty good. How about there?”
It was loud in the club, so loud that we had to lean in and shout in each other’s ears to be heard. We got our drinks, cocktails to match the location, and went to sit at a table on the edge of the dancefloor. It was warm there, with the breeze from the sea helping to cool it down but not as much so as the air conditioning in the restaurant.
We couldn’t talk much with the noise, so we ended up having a sort of shouted conversation sat up close to each other. I think we were both borderline drunk at this stage, and as we sat there we were pushed close to each other, with our legs touching.
“I still can’t believe your hottest thing, that was seriously hot,” he shouted. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”
I laughed, “Trust me, behind the sensible facade there’s the real me that’s pretty adventurous.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, definitely. Let me prove it. Come and dance.”
And I grabbed his hand and led him on to the dancefloor. Now I’m really just an ok dancer, but I enjoy just letting go a bit. I think he was similar as we spent the next ten or fifteen minutes dancing together.
“Do you want to do a shot?” he asked after we’d been dancing for a while.
“Trying to get me drunk?” I replied, laughing. “Too late for that, I’m there already.”
He grinned and headed off to the bar, while I kept dancing. A minute or two later a couple of guys came over in my direction and started to dance with me. I didn’t mind much to start with, but they started to dance up close and one of them pushed right up behind me.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he shouted.
“No thanks”
“Why not?”
I used my tried and tested response. “Because my boyfriend is coming back from the bar in a second.”
He looked at my sceptically, but at that moment my Partner in Crime returned with two shots. “Everything ok here?” he asked, in a friendly way.
“She says you’re her boyfriend. I don’t believe it though, I think she wants to hang out with us.”
This sort of thing gets so tiresome as a woman. As if a man can just come along, beat his chest and claim ownership of a woman on a dancefloor.
An easy way out though. I turned to my Partner in Crime, took my shot out of his hand, downed it, got him to do the same and then kissed him passionately on the lips, using one of my hands to pull his head to me and putting the other on his hip. He froze for a second, then responded and started to kiss me back, his hands settling on my rear and, I noticed, giving it a little squeeze. We were probably like that for about ten seconds, until I pulled away and saw that the guys had disappeared.
“Phew, that’s dealt with them,” I said with a laugh. “Shall we got and sit down again?” as I took him by the hand and led him back to our seats.
He seemed slightly dazed by the last minute, not surprisingly, and when we sat down again he asked, “What was that?”
“Oh, how to deal with guys. Not a problem.”
“No, that kiss. You really kissed me. What was that? You always do that? I think I drank half your shot as well as mine!”
Maybe it was partly the alcohol, but I’d had an amazing evening and really enjoyed his company. I thought back to conversations with my flatmate, and in my head just thought fuck it, you only live once.
I leaned in and kissed him. Properly this time. With passion. He responded eagerly and we kissed for a good while, our tongues meeting and our hands moving over each other. Probably a bit too much to do in public, but at that stage of the night we weren’t the only ones in the club coupled up so it wasn’t going to be a problem.
We broke apart. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
I bit my lip as I looked at him with my sexiest eyes. “Yes, definitely.”
And we kissed again, this time slower but more passionately. This was a problem. When I’d planned in the comfort of my bedroom, I’d assumed that my old tried and tested approach to dating and what I would and wouldn’t do would still work now. What I’d not appreciated was that now I’d gone two months without being kissed, whereas back then I’d be snogging random people all the time. The kiss felt so good, and filled such a need that I’d not even realised I had, that I was getting far more turned on than I ever had before from a kiss. So turned on that I badly needed something more. If I’d be sober my common sense would have kicked in, but with my inhibitions seen away by the night’s drinks there was nothing to stop me. I wanted him. I wanted all of him. I didn’t care what came after. I just needed him tonight.
“How about we go somewhere quieter? Where we can do more without getting thrown out of the club.” I asked.
“Where we can do more? Sure, where?”
“Shall we see if we can sneak down to the beach maybe?”
We got up and left, and headed towards the beach. When visiting these hotels, there is a knack to getting down to the beach even if you’re not staying there. The trick is to act like you own the place and have every right to be there. If you do that, it takes a brave security guard to risk stopping you and then being summoned to his superiors because of an irate guest when it gets reported. We’d both been living out there long enough to know that, and as we walked arm in arm towards the beach we even got a “Good evening” from the guard, probably laughing at another pair of drunk hotel guests.
I kicked off my heels as we got on to the empty sand, and we headed over to a row of cabanas tucked to one side. When we got there I pulled my Partner in Crime down in to the first cabana we found, and practically jumped on top of him. Leaning in to kiss him, we made out passionately for what must have been ages. This was the hands stage. The one I’d said that I wouldn’t do, but never say never. His hands were touching my breasts through my dress, my hand was reaching in to his trousers, and when he was slow to do more I moved my legs apart, pulled his hand to the slit in my dress and practically forced him to place it in my underwear. He got the message and had soon slid one then two fingers into my wetness. While he was starting to do that I’d taken hold of his hard cock and was massaging it for all I was worth. Pretty quickly he started to moan, which started me moaning, and within a few seconds of each other we both came.
After that, we lay back laughing. “I need to wipe this somewhere,” I said, pretending to wipe the cum from my hand on his shirt. We lay there kissing and cuddling for a few more minutes.
Then I sat up and leaned on one arm, while my other hand went to play with his now flaccid cock. I felt safe with him. If he was some guy who messed around with loads of women, who was only after me for sex, I’d have said thank you at that point and got a taxi home. But I could trust him. He’d only had one sexual partner, and that gave me a lot of confidence. As I looked at him, I thought the idea of being only his second was pretty hot.
“How about we go somewhere even quieter?” I asked.
He raised an eyebrow at me. I felt his cock start to harden again, and gave it a little squeeze.
“I mean it. Don’t make me say it!”
He chuckled, teasing me. “Say it. I want you to. Please.”
I leaned over to right next to his ear, gave it a kiss and a playful nibble while I played with the head of his cock with my fingers, then whispered, “How about we go somewhere even quieter so that you can fuck my brains out? One time opportunity.”
He smiled. “I’d like that. I’ve got an idea. Can you give me five minutes? I’ll be right back.” I was breaking through all my red lines but by now I didn’t care. I wanted him. All of him.
Five minutes isn’t normally a long time.
But try making five minutes not feel like seventeen hours when you’ve just told a man who isn’t your boyfriend in no uncertain terms that you want him to sleep with you, only for him to then vanish with a vague promise to return.
As I waited, I nervously watched the moon setting over the waves falling on the beach while my thoughts ranged from laughing it all off as a big joke when he got back, to wondering if I’d scared him off and he’d left me on my own, to deciding to call my boyfriend to confess everything about the night and beg his forgiveness, to hoping with all my heart that he’d come back soon and whisk me away. Mixed in with this my mind kept going back to the fantasies I’d been having about him.
Ultimately though I realised that I’d made the decision to do this when I decided not to cancel the night before. I hadn’t thought it at the time, but looking back while I sat there waiting that was the point at which I took the plunge. I needed someone to make love to me and, in the absence of my boyfriend, I’d found a very agreeable alternative. It certainly helped as well that, if I had been single, I was pretty sure that I’d have been dating that alternative for weeks already.
Looking at my watch 5 minutes passed with no sign of him returning, then 6 minutes, then 7. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that I’d clearly screwed up and had been stood up, when I saw him coming back along the beach. He saw me and smiled, and at that moment my heart leapt just a little. He’d come back.
“What took you so long?” I asked as he sat back down.
He reached into his pocket and put two cards down. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I met you, and I’m damned if that’s going to happen in one of our apartments. These are keys to one of the suites here with a sea view and terrace. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I replied. “It sounds great, are you sure?”
“Yes, definitely. I want the first time with you to be special.”
“Ok, but you’ve got to understand that I’ve got three rules. First, this can only be for tonight. When the tonight ends, we have to end this.”
He nodded his agreement.
“Second, because it is only for tonight let’s make the most of it.”
He went slightly red at the thought but nodded again.
“And finally, I am going to go to the room right now to get ready. You mustn’t come up there for the next twenty minutes, and when you do come in, I want you to do exactly what I tell you to. Are you ok with that?”
He nodded again, “Yes, that sounds great”.
I stood up, took one of the keys, then leaned in to give him a brief kiss. With that I picked up my shoes, and walked down the beach giving him the best view possible of my figure as I went.
When I got into the room, I immediately scoped it out for the fun ahead. Walking in there was a corridor with a guest bathroom off to the left, then walking through there was a large living room in the middle with a bedroom on one side of it. The bedroom had sliding doors to the living room, a large king sized modern four poster bed, and an ensuite shower room with huge walk in shower, while the living room itself had a large, L-shaped sofa around a TV, a dining table with some chairs, and a well-stocked bar.
Beyond the living room was a terrace running the full length of the suite, with a fantastic view over the beach and sea. Thankfully nowhere in the vicinity could see in to the room unless we wanted someone to.
This can’t have been cheap. But what a location for what I had in mind.
As I walked around I started to have some ideas, and could see some promising potential for what we could get up to. My arousal had been let off the leash and I had a lot of plans for what tonight would involve.
However, my first problem was the underwear dilemma. In those naive moments just a few hours earlier I had deliberately put on the least attractive and ill matched underwear that I owned to try to prevent giving in to temptation. Well, that had failed miserably.
The solution was easy. I took off my dress and removed the offending underwear, hiding it in a drawer in one of the bedrooms. I started to put the dress back on but then paused, and a wicked idea came into my head. I wanted him, I wanted him soon, and I was already horny as hell, so why make it take any longer than necessary?
I put the dress in a wardrobe and walked back into the living room naked except for my high heels and my jewellery. He wasn’t going to know what hit him.
As I waited for the time to be up, I slid open the door to the terrace to let the warm sea breeze come in, then I went to the bar and found a bottle of champagne. In for a penny, in for a pound I thought and poured myself a glass. I took the glass to the sofa and sat down, out of sight of the door to the suite but very much in sight for anyone coming through into the living room, and waited.
While I sat there, I thought about my fantasies I’d had about him, and particularly thought some more about the image from dinner of me in place of his ex-girlfriend tied spread eagled to the bed. I was about as turned on as I could be, and my nipples were hard and sensitive. I was ready.
I didn’t have to wait long. Soon I heard the click of the key card in the door, and someone coming in. For a brief moment I worried it was one of the hotel staff, but then he walked in to the room, saw me and stopped in his tracks with his jaw open.
I was sat on the sofa, with my legs crossed but everything else on display.
“Wow” was all he could say. “Wow… wow… wow…”
I stood up with my back to him and walked slowly round the sofa, giving him the full view of my rear before I turned towards him. With my high heels clicking on the floor as I went, my necklace jangling slightly between my rock hard nipples with each step, and my wetness glistening in my pubic hair I think I left him in no doubt as to what I wanted.
With the shoes on I was the same height, and as I got to him I stood close, reached with both hands for his trousers, slowly undid them and released his rock-hard cock. Grabbing it in one hand and using the other to pull his face towards mine, I kissed him deeply.
“I want you.” I said, before dropping to my knees in front of him and taking his cock into my mouth. I looked up at him while I started to massage his cock with my tongue and bob my head up and down, and I’d like to think that the sight was something to behold. Certainly, the feeling of kneeling there, naked, my legs apart on the cool, tiled floor while the sea breeze blew across me left me so turned on I couldn’t wait any longer. While I did this, I’d pulled his trousers down while he’d taken off his own shirt, so that he was now as naked as me.
I stood up again. “I want you right now,” I said. “I need you in me right now. I am going to walk over to the bedroom over there, I’m going to get on my hands and knees on the bed, and you’re going to come in and fuck me from behind. No messing around. I want you in me, I want it in your favourite position, and I want to be fucked hard. Can you manage that?”
He nodded, and I could feel the tip of his cock twitching against me at the thought.
I walked over to the bed, and got in a position that I’d scouted out earlier where I could both look into a mirror in front of me so that I could look into his eyes while he fucked me, and also see a mirror off to the side so that I could watch the show of him taking me from behind. As I settled on to all fours it felt weird but hot to still be wearing my shoes, while the sight of my necklace hanging down along with my C-cup breasts was a huge turn on. I’d left my shoulder length brown hair down so that it was spilling past my face as I looked forward. Remembering his advice earlier, I pushed my knees out to the side so that my upper legs were at a 45 degree angle, pushed my ass back and arched my back, ready for him.
I felt him climb on to the bed, one of his hands grabbing my hips while the other guided his cock to my entrance. I looked in the mirror in front and could see him staring with outright lust at my ass and my two holes spread out and waiting for him. Without warning he suddenly thrust into me, and I let out a moan of surprise.
“God I’ve needed that,” I said as my eyes met his in the mirror. He smiled back at me.
He started to move in and out, and I could feel myself getting even more aroused. Suddenly, without warning, an orgasm hit me hard and fast. I don’t know where it came from, I’d never been able to from doggystyle, but I guess the combination of the situation, the alcohol, and my already aroused state combined to push me over the edge. And maybe just a little bit he’d proved to me that he really knew what he was doing in bed with his advice at dinner. As the first wave hit me my arms buckled, and I ended up with my arms outstretched in front of me supported on my shoulders. I let out a series of involuntary moans as the orgasm ripped through me, but unusually for me I knew there was more to come.
He slowed down and asked “Are you ok? Do you want me to stop?”
“Don’t you fucking dare! Fuck me hard.” I pushed myself back up so that I was resting on my hands again.
He followed my instruction to the letter, setting a steady pace of slow but powerful thrusts. As he did so I suddenly felt a slap on my butt, then another. Looking in the side mirror I could see that he was spanking me while he fucked me. I’d thought we could try some of the kinky stuff that he was into later, but I guess he decided to bring that forward. Not that I could object as the steady pace had led to the feeling of another orgasm building, and the sight of him spanking me on my tight ass while my breasts and hair bounced back and forward with the rhythm of his thrusts only served to push me close to the edge.
My breathing started to get shallow, and I could hear him doing the same. Suddenly his hands grabbed my upper half and pulled me upwards, so that I was upright as he fucked me. In that position he used one hand to hold my wrists pinned together behind my back, while with the other he gathered my hair into a rough ponytail. Stealing a glance to the side the sight was so incredibly hot that I almost came on the spot, the only thing stopping me was the slower build up having already orgasmed twice in the past hour.
After a few minutes like that he leaned his weight on me and I landed on my front, my wrists still pinned behind my back and him on top of me, fucking me with my legs splayed out to the side while he kissed along my cheek and neck. This pushed me over the edge, my third orgasm of the night ripping through me, leaving me almost screaming in pleasure as he continued to fuck me through the orgasm, him cumming inside me as my own orgasm started to subside.
We lay there in that position catching our breath for a while, him still inside me and occasionally me grinding my ass back into him to wring out every last drop of my orgasm.
Finally, I whispered to him, “You really did know what you were talking about with doggystyle. That was something else.”
He nuzzled into my neck, and murmured, “It felt like you enjoyed it. I’m glad.”
Finally, we rolled apart, and I pulled him in between my legs, giving him a deep, long kiss, our tongues exploring each other’s mouths and barely coming up for air. I could feel myself getting aroused again, and he was starting to harden, so when the time was right I reached down, held his cock in my hand, and slid him into me.
“Time for your favourite position,” he said, smiling and looking into my eyes.
The sex this time was nothing like the time before, and no better or worse for it. Rather the frantic fuck when we’d got to the room, or even the desperate hands all over each other on the beach, this was far more measured and all the better for it considering that we’d already both orgasmed multiple times that night.
My Partner in Crime took his time, setting a slow, even sometimes non-existent, pace as both of our arousals built. We kissed deeply while doing so, and our hands explored each other while I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him into me. I snuck another glance in the mirror and the sight of him slowly fucking me in this most sensual of positions was erotic as hell.
My orgasm was slow to build, and after a while I felt him quickening the pace until, suddenly, he came hard again into me.
After a few seconds, he chuckled and said, “Sorry. That was a bit too quick.”
“No problem, I enjoyed that. Was it good?”
“So… fucking… good… I’ve never orgasmed three times in a night before, that last one was something special.”
Once he’d pulled out, we ended up lying side by side, kissing passionately again while his hands explored my chest. After maybe ten minutes I was so turned on I told him that I needed release. In no time he’d slipped one, then two, then three fingers into me and proceeded to finger fuck me to a much bigger orgasm that those that had gone before, one that had me shaking and moaning as my arms and legs wrapped around him and I clung on to him for dear life.
And it was in that position, after one of the most intense fucks of my life, that we both drifted off to sleep…