Right, I want you to picture the scene. Its Sunday Morning and I wake up knowing that tonight I am going to be getting down and dirty with this guy I work with. We’ve been crushing on each other and bantering with each other for years. I take a quick shower because the pre-D routine comes later as smooth skin only lasts 3-5 business minutes. I open my sex-wear drawer (was that a moth?) and decide to try a couple of them on. One of them looks hot as fuck and so I take a quick snap and off it goes to Mr Big. His reply is ‘that’s never you‘. The cheeky effing bastard. 1. Who sends a picture of somebody else? Defeats the whole point…I want you getting hard for me, not some model, and 2. Don’t act so surprised buddy! I’m hot, it’s not like you haven’t noticed else we wouldn’t be here right now would we? He redeems himself with a more appropriate response after I call him a cheeky fuck and the day is set. I thrown the outfit in the wash…I am getting laid tonight!
In order to put on the front that I am not a slob, I begin to clean my house. Starting with my bedroom and the inevitable floordrobe as this is where I am hoping we will spend most of the night. The bathroom obviously and kitchen and lounge. I also clear out my hallway and hoover top to bottom. I then run a few errands and do some essential food shopping all the while sending and receiving filthy messages with Mr Big before returning home.
By the time I jump in the shower for the second time I’m ready to blow. I consider using the shower head to sort myself out but I refrain, the anticipation will be worth it.
Lotioning up, I hear my phone beep – Mr Big is on his way. I put on the bodystocking I tried on this morning, cover myself in a black slinky dress (purely so I can answer the door modestly) and I pour a couple of drinks.
I hear a knock at the door and Mr Big looks delicious. He hasn’t come on his bike, which was a little disappointing. He looks good, he smells good. He comes in, gives me a peck on the cheek, he takes his drink and we make small talk. This is awkward I think and so I ask if he’s going to keep me waiting any longer. Of course not and we head upstairs.
He undresses me. Then himself. The kisses. The touches. Heaven.
But something happened that I hadn’t anticipated…because he’s funny and because we banter a lot already and because we work together so I already know a good deal about him, once we started making out….it felt weird! WEIRD! I was so conflicted. My eyes were all OH YES! But my body definitely didn’t quite respond in the same way.
And neither did his.
Mr Big was extremely impressive, and deserves his moniker and for a good hour, maybe less, we kissed and touched, giving each other oral. It was nice. He stopped me before he could come but I did manage to dig deep and find an orgasm from somewhere while he went down on me. We then both decided to get to the main course and well, that’s where everything kinda closed up shop. It could have been the condom, neither of us are fans. It could have been the medication he takes, it could have just been first time nerves. It could have been the slight mishap when he tried to insert a finger in my ass. It could have been being in our heads. But we both dried up!! And that folks, is the end of it.
So we ended the night, with no fucking, whatsoever. I decided to make us crumpets and we sat downstairs talking for a few hours before he headed home. I was horny again by the time he got up to leave, I told him so and he agreed but it was late… ‘Roll on Round 2‘ he said.
And so round 2 is scheduled for next week.
I closed the door on him really wishing I’d used the shower head.
Please, Please let next time be the whole meal. I don’t want to take Mr Big off the menu!