I was on my way home, sat in a warm carriage on the train which, for once, had been on time. Outside, darkness blanketed the countryside, broken only by the occasional glow of distant farmhouses or the fleeting flashes of station lights as we sped past. Small streaks of water slid across the window, catching the faint light, and scattering it like broken glass. The rhythmic hum of the train wheels against the track filled the air, a sound I usually found soothing. Not tonight.
My mind raced, twisting itself into knots as I replayed the events of that afternoon. What should I say when I got home? How should I behave? Would she tell I have spent the afternoon with someone else? The thought made me wince. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, my reflection in the window catching my eye, pale, drawn, and betraying every ounce of unease I felt. This was a little nightmare of my own making. But oddly, it was one I relished.
It had been around lunchtime, the office was beginning to empty as the weekend crept into everyone’s mood. It wasn’t long before someone suggested we break from the monotony and go for a proper lunch seemed like the perfect escape. Katherine was part of my group that headed out that afternoon. Along with a few others, we walked to a cosy pub just a short distance from the office, a favourite haunt for our team. Katherine was younger, many years younger, in fact. She could have been my daughter if life had dealt the cards differently. But in the office, none of that mattered, we just did our jobs. I found myself laughing more than I had in weeks. There was something about the way she brought a fresh perspective to everything, not just in the office but here too in the warmth of the pub, it was quite refreshing.
But there was a line, wasn’t there? I was aware of it, even as the wine blurred its edges. I was old enough to be her father, and yet, here we were, colleagues, equals in the ways that mattered at work. Still, I couldn’t ignore the subtle irony of how easily we connected despite the age gap.
We all left the pub around 2 o’clock. As I made my way toward the station, ready to catch my usual train home, Katherine caught up to me and slipped her arm through mine. “Looks like we’re walking the same way,” she said with a cheeky smile. “You don’t mind, do you?”
As it turned out, she lived not far from the station, in one of those charming railway cottages along Station Approach. We walked together, the conversation easy, picking up from the pub and drifting in and out of work talk.
When we reached her door, she slowed down, “Well, here we are then,” she said with a nod toward her gate.
“See you Monday then.” I replied.
But instead of waving me off and not letting go, she asked, “Can I offer you a coffee, or are you in a hurry to get home?”
Her question caught me off guard. It was unexpected but welcome. There was no reason to say no, truthfully, I was enjoying her company. I nodded, smiling. “A coffee sounds great.”
She unlocked the door and gestured for me to come inside. The cottage was cosy, warm, and inviting, with just enough clutter to feel lived in. As she slipped off her coat and hung it on a peg by the door, I hesitated, suddenly seeing her in a new light. There was something in the way she moved, her confidence, the natural elegance of her small, her small, trim figure carried the red dress perfectly, complemented by black stockings and high-heeled shoes that matched seamlessly. I’d never quite noticed her like this before. It struck me suddenly, the unfamiliar intimacy of the moment. Seeing her here, in her own home felt strangely intimate. And as I watched her move, a feeling began to stir within me, unfamiliar yet undeniable, a growing desire for her.
She turned, catching me mid-thought, and smiled again, her expression warm and unguarded. “Make yourself at home,” she said, motioning to the small living room. “I’ll put the kettle on.”
I sat on the two-seater sofa and taking in the room, a mix of old furniture and modern touches, books stacked in odd places, a blanket draped over the arm of a well-worn sofa. It was distinctly her, and that realisation settled over me like a soft hum in the background of my thoughts.
For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel the need to analyse or overthink it. I was content to let it unfold, whatever it might be.
Katharine sat down beside me, her movements unhurried, deliberate. For a moment, the room was filled with a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable but carried a sense of expectancy, as if the air itself were waiting for something to happen. I turned to her, unsure of what to say, when she spoke, almost directly, with a quiet intensity.
“Are you married?” she asked.
The question caught me off guard, but I answered honestly. “No. We’ve never married. And, in a way, we’re just friends now, it pays the bills.” I remarked with an audible sigh.
There was a pause, and Katharine’s hand came to rest on my knee, light but deliberate. Her touch was gentle, as though she were offering comfort without words. Her lips curved into a soft, understanding smile. “Don’t be sad,” she said, her voice soothing. “I know it cannot be easy.”
“It’s not,” I replied, letting out a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding. “But that’s how it is.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at me with those striking emerald-green eyes, the sunlight catching them in a way that made them glisten like polished jewels. Turning slightly on the sofa, her blond hair caught the light streaming through the window, framing her face in a halo of gold. For an instant, she seemed unreal, radiant, as though the sun itself had chosen her as its focal point.
I relaxed further, letting my arm drape along the back of the sofa. As I did, she shifted, leaning into me ever so slightly, her posture both casual and intimate. There was an ease to her movements, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. Yet, beneath it all, there was an unspoken tension, a subtle pull that neither of us could ignore.
I don’t know why I asked it, but the words slipped out before I could stop them. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
She shook her head, her expression softening. “No,” she replied simply, and without hesitation, she leaned across and kissed me. It was quick, unassuming, yet completely disarming.
I blinked, startled but not upset, and turned to her, a smile tugging at my lips. “Katherine, this is… silly. How old are you?”
Her smile widened, playful yet unwavering. “Twenty-three,” she said, the words floating out as if they didn’t matter in the slightest. Then, her gaze locked onto mine, and something deeper flickered in her expression. She leaned closer, her voice low but confident. “Don’t worry,” she said softly, her emerald eyes never leaving mine. “She will not know, I won’t tell.”
The weight of her words settled between us, heavy but thrilling. My mind raced, caught between reason and the undeniable pull of the moment. And yet, as Katherine sat there, a radiant picture of youth and self-assurance, it felt like she had all the answers, while I was the one fumbling to catch up.
I stammered, fumbling for an excuse, anything to diffuse the sudden intensity of the moment. The words were on the edge of my tongue, Katherine didn’t give me the chance to finish. She leaned in, her movements unhurried, and gently cupped my face with her hands.
Her touch was warm, steady, as though she knew exactly what she was doing. Her lips met mine, and this time, the kiss was deeper, slower, laced with a longing that I couldn’t ignore. Whatever fragile wall I’d been trying to build crumbled in an instant. The spell of hesitation I’d been under broke like glass underfoot, and before I could think better of it, I pulled her closer.
Our bodies fit together as if the space between us had never existed. The kiss stretched on, time losing its shape, the world outside her small cottage slipping into obscurity. My hands found their way to her waist, holding her gently but firmly, as if afraid this moment might dissolve into a dream if I didn’t anchor it somehow.
When we finally broke apart, the world felt different, quieter, as though it were holding its breath with us. Her forehead rested against mine, her emerald eyes half-lidded but searching mine with a softness that made my chest tighten. Neither of us spoke, but there was no need.
We got up together and I took hold of her tiny hand and led her to the stairs and single bedroom beyond. Leading her in, I closed the door behind us.
Katherine leaned into me, her body soft and warm against mine, her breath a steady rhythm in the quiet room. My hands moved almost of their own accord, tracing the gentle contours of her body. She sighed softly, tilting her head just enough for her lips to brush against my jaw, her hand resting against my chin as if to guide me.
Time seemed to stretch, each moment unspooling into the next with deliberate slowness. My fingers grazed her side, following the curve of her waist and rising to her chest. Her breath hitched as I caressed her, my lips finding her neck and leaving a trail of kisses and soft nibbles that made her shiver against me.
In a voice barely above a whisper, a breath laced with longing, she murmured, “I want you to touch me.”
The words sent a jolt through me, and I hesitated for the briefest of moments, unsure if this was real, if this was truly happening. Her fingers tightened slightly on my shoulder, urging me forward, and I let go of the doubt. Slowly, carefully, my hand found the hem of her dress, gathering the fabric as I slid it upward.
Her skin was impossibly smooth, warm under my fingertips as my hand moved across her stomach, tracing small circles that drew soft, quiet gasps from her. Her body responded instinctively, arching ever so slightly into my touch.
When my hand reached her panties, I paused, feeling the damp fabric against my fingers. She let out a soft moan, the sound barely audible. My breath caught as I realised the depth of her vulnerability, her openness in this moment, and I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against her ear.
“Are you sure?” I asked softly, my voice hoarse.
She nodded, her emerald eyes locking onto mine, filled with an intensity that left no room for doubt. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling but certain.
And with that, I slowly slipped my hand inside her wet panties and across the silky smoothness of her pussy lips, moist with desire.
Katherine drew in a deep, shuddering breath, her body responding instinctively as her legs pressed together, trapping my hand against the heat of her. Her small hand found mine, adding the lightest pressure, guiding me closer, pressing me more firmly against wet pussy. Her reactions were uninhibited, her vulnerability amplifying the intensity of the moment.
I let my fingers move with care, exploring her gently. The warmth and wetness beneath my touch were undeniable, and her soft moans spurred me forward. Sliding her panties slightly to the side, my fingers found her clitoris, swollen and eager beneath my touch. I began to move in slow, deliberate circles, applying just enough pressure without overwhelming her.
“Katherine, I”, my voice low, almost lost in the space between us. But her only response was a soft cry of pleasure, her hand clutching at my shoulder as if to anchor herself to the moment.
I continued my movements, adjusting the pressure and rhythm to match her cues, watching her reactions with a mixture of awe and desire. Her breaths grew heavier, her movements more urgent, and I could feel the rising wave of her pleasure, building and coiling until it seemed ready to break.
world outside disappeared entirely, leaving only the two of us and the pull of the moment we could no longer resist.
I took her hand and led her to the bed, the soft glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the curtains casting a warm light over the room. Katherine followed me without hesitation, her movements fluid, her emerald eyes locked on mine. Her trust in me, the openness in her expression, sent a wave of emotion through me, a mix of desire and something deeper that I couldn’t quite name.
When we reached the bed, I laid her down gently, careful, and deliberate, as if she might shatter under my touch. Her blond hair fanned out across the pillow, a halo of gold against the crisp white linens. She was already half-undressed, her body glowing with a kind of natural elegance that made my breath catch.
I reached for her dress, easing it the rest of the way off, my hands lingering on her smooth skin as I did. She watched me silently, her chest rising and falling with anticipation, her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something but didn’t trust her voice. Once the dress was gone, I carefully helped her out of her panties, leaving nothing between us.
For a moment, I just looked at her, taking in the sight of her laid bare before me. She was radiant, every curve and line of her body inviting and unguarded. Her confidence was captivating, and yet there was a vulnerability in the way she looked back at me, her eyes searching mine for reassurance.
“Nothing is going to get in our way now,” I said softly, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart.
She smiled, that same soft, knowing smile that had drawn me in from the start. “No,” she murmured, her voice a whisper, “nothing.”
I leaned down, kissing her deeply, my hands exploring the warmth of her skin, the smoothness of her tight little breast, nipples hard and pressing. I kissed her again in that wonderful wet spot I had felt earlier before sliding up her delicate body to enter her. There was no resistance, and I gently let myself slid in a little before pulling back on her. Katherine let out joys of pleasure as I moved once more, deeper into her. Raising her legs, her body welcoming mine with a grace that felt as natural as breathing. As we moved together, every touch, every motion became an unspoken language between us, a rhythm that deepened and stretched, making time itself feel irrelevant. Her hands gripped my back, her breaths coming faster, shallower, until they were interspersed with soft cries that sent shivers down my spine.
Her body arched beneath mine, her head pressing back into the pillow as the waves of pleasure consumed her. Suddenly, her eyes fluttered closed, and for a moment, she seemed to lose herself entirely, her body trembling as her orgasm overtook her. She went still, her breaths shallow and uneven, as if caught in a faint from the sheer intensity of the release.
The sight of her surrender, the rawness of the moment, tipped me over the edge. I bucked a couple more times, feeling my own climax surge through me, leaving me trembling as I followed her into the same overwhelming bliss. The world seemed to blur, every sense heightened and yet distant, as though the moment existed on a plane of its own.
Finally, I collapsed gently onto her, careful not to crush her as I lay there, catching my breath. My heart pounded in my chest, the echoes of the moment still rippling through me. Her chest rose and fell beneath mine, her breathing beginning to steady, her body soft and warm against me.
Neither of us spoke at first, the silence filled with the quiet hum of our shared experience. I shifted slightly, propping myself up on one elbow to look at her. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, a dreamy smile playing on her lips as she gazed back at me.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her damp forehead.
She nodded, her smile widening just a little. “Better than okay,” she murmured, her voice a soft whisper, laced with exhaustion and contentment.
I couldn’t help but smile back, leaning down to kiss her forehead gently. Whatever the world had been before this moment, it felt far away now, insignificant compared to what we had just shared.
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