After the business dinner ends and everyone drifts out of the restaurant, Derek hangs back to wait for me. Even at nine in the evening, his suit is impeccable, and his smile reveals no fatigue whatsoever.
“That went well, don’t you think?” he says quietly as we head for the door.
“It did,” I agree.
Derek and I have been colleagues for a few years now. The purpose of tonight’s dinner was to give our company the opportunity to woo a potential client, and while I did my fair share of schmoozing, Derek was the real charmer.
Of course, he knows he’s the one who secured the deal, but he’d never be so crass as to brag about it. Instead, he’ll stay in the background, allowing those higher on the corporate ladder to take credit for his success. He’ll patiently wait until the all-important client insists on working with him directly.
Then he’ll get promoted. I’ve seen the scenario play out before.
The night is mild, with just enough humidity to frizz my dark hair. I try to resist smoothing it down as our small group huddles together and exchanges goodbyes. The new client gives Derek a hearty pat on the back, then shakes my hand as an afterthought.
Minutes later, it’s just me and Derek. He walks me to my car.
“Congratulations,” I say with a wry smile.
He respects me too much to feign ignorance of my meaning. Flashing his own smile, he leans closer. “Say, the night’s still young. How about we grab a drink to celebrate?”
I raise my eyebrows. “A drink?”
“Yeah.” His shrug seems deliberately casual. “A shame to call it a night this early, don’t you think?”
In response, I do what I always do when uncertain: I grow quiet. All the while, I search Derek’s face, trying to get a better read on his motive.
He makes it clear by resting his hand on my upper arm. His stare never moves from mine. Through the thin fabric of my blouse, I can feel his palm’s warmth.
“One drink.” It sounds as if he’s negotiating, yet his touch grows more intimate. His fingers slide over me.
I’m taken aback by my body’s reaction. A flush of arousal courses through me, reminiscent of the hot flashes I’ve become familiar with now that I’m in my late forties. Derek is almost ten years younger and still unmarried. On the occasions our conversations have veered toward the personal, he’s indicated no interest in settling down.
And why should he? The man could have practically any woman he chooses. So why the hell is he asking me out for a drink?
He lowers his head a little more. Our mouths are just inches apart. In vivid detail, I imagine us kissing. My panties dampen at the thought of our tongues meeting between our lips.
This is how an affair starts. With a celebratory drink. With a kiss. How long would it take me to end up at his place? In his bed?
A faint, involuntary moan slips from my throat. The sound encourages Derek to move his hand to my hip. Soon, he’ll have both arms around me.
I hesitate for a moment, frozen in the grip of indecision.
Then I step back.
He doesn’t follow. His hand returns to his side.
“Some other time.” My voice is too loud, too cheerful.
“Sure.” Derek’s smile doesn’t waver as he retreats. He won’t hold the rebuff against me. At the office tomorrow morning, we’ll both pretend this never happened.
But if I were to change my mind…
Quickly, I tell him good night and then slip into the safety of my car. No temptation there, no chance to violate the vows I’ve made.
It isn’t until I’m halfway home that I realize I’m shaking. The classical music I enjoy does nothing to calm my nerves.
When I step into the house, I find Liam on the couch, with his laptop open before him. Like me, he’s often guilty of bringing work home. He wears a T-shirt and sweatpants, and his face bears its usual hint of stubble.
He welcomes me with a smile. “Hey, sweetheart. How was the dinner?”
“It went well,” I reply, using Derek’s same words. My shoulders slump from exhaustion, and I avoid Liam’s eyes while setting my purse on the table.
“Hope you saved room for dessert,” he says. “I made that chess pie you love.”
With my back to him, I press a hand to my mouth. A nearly irrepressible sob wells up inside me. By some miracle, I’m able to subdue it.
The ensuing silence prompts Liam to ask, “You okay, Dana?”
I turn, smiling through my tears. “I’m fine,” I assure him. “Just tired.”
My husband’s brow furrows, but before he can ask anything else, I move toward the couch. His confusion deepens as I start to unbutton my blouse. When I let it slip from my shoulders, Liam hurries to set his laptop aside.
Wordlessly, he watches me strip down to just my thigh-high stockings. Like his face, my pussy bears a trace of stubble. I’ve neglected to shave it for several days.
Not that Liam’s ever minded. He’ll happily take my pussy any way he can get it. Still, if I know we’re going to have sex, I make sure I’m smooth for him.
But tonight isn’t planned. Tonight, I’m weak-kneed with relief that I didn’t destroy something precious.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Liam says as his gaze travels over me. We’ve been together for twenty years, married for fifteen. Yet the familiarity of my body in no way dampens his appreciation for it.
“You’re pretty damn fine yourself,” I reply with a grin.
He sits up a little straighter when I climb onto the couch and kneel beside him. Leaning forward, I kiss his mouth and neck. My hand slides over his chest and down to his groin. With an expert touch, I rub him through his pants.
Cupping my breast, Liam fondles my nipple to hardness. “This is… a nice surprise,” he says. “The dinner must have gone extremely well!”
“I don’t want to talk about dinner,” I tell him. “I want you to take out your cock so I can suck you off.”
He scrambles to yank down his sweatpants and underwear. His dick is half-erect, still somewhat soft as I take it into my mouth. I hear his hiss of pleasure; his hand is gentle on my hair. Wrapping my fingers around the base of his cock, I stroke and lick. I moan all around him while working to get him nice and wet.
“Ah, baby, that feels incredible!”
Whenever Liam gets extremely turned on, it’s difficult for him to stay still. He’s squirming now, as if barely able to control his arousal. After nuzzling and kissing his balls, and running my tongue along the underside of his shaft, I give in to my own desire and wrap my lips around him again.
Soon, I’m bobbing my head, working up to the point when I allow his tip to push into my throat. Never content to simply receive, Liam snakes a hand between my thighs and eases two fingers into my cunt.
His hips buck a little, and I let him fuck my mouth. Though my throat aches in protest, I strive to take him even deeper.
He swears and then groans. When I finally pull off, gasping for breath, I leave his dick coated in spit.
While pumping away at his erection, I look up at him and ask, “Do you want to come in my mouth or my pussy?”
“Your pussy,” he answers so quickly that I have to giggle.
Once I straddle his thighs and guide his cock into me, he settles back against the couch. He’s flushed and slack-jawed, his hands resting on my hips. I know he loves watching me ride his dick.
Holding onto his shoulders, I take him hard and fast. We’re both panting, my cries matching his grunts and moans.
“Slow down,” Liam pleads, “or I won’t be able to last.”
“That’s okay,” I assure him. “Tonight’s about you.”
My swaying tits beckon his mouth, and he manages to latch on to my right nipple. His fierce suckling makes me tip forward, eager for more, and the second I do, he thrusts his hips to drive his cock into my pussy.
I come with my breast in Liam’s mouth, while he’s fucking me senseless. My shudders are so strong that he has to hold me steady. In his grasp, I feel my muscles contract and then grow limp, only to tighten again.
It’s more than Liam can bear, and as my head lolls and my vision momentarily dims, he reaches his own release. His shout is followed by a whimper, both sounding equally helpless. I smile at the way he twitches within my walls.
Afterward, I’m sluggish in his embrace. He strokes my hair, and neither of us speak. During the comfortable silence, I’m filled with a gratitude so profound that it brings fresh tears to my eyes.
In resisting the lure of what might be, I’ve honored the gift of what is.
