The People You Meet

It felt good to tease him.

I couldn't tell you why, exactly. Maybe because I hadn't been allowed to for so long. So long. She only dated him for three months before she decided she wanted to take a bartender home instead.

Idiot.

He seemed to enjoy it, too, even if I knew she had done plenty with him in the short time they were together. Not that that was surprising. She had always been more adventurous than me. I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me a little, make me a little jealous.

Truth is, I wanted to change that.

And I wanted to do it with him.

I wasn't in love with him, but I did want him. I knew him from work, the same way she did. But I learned about him from her. She told me everything, like best friends do. More than that, she liked to brag. Always had. Probably always would. And she knew I'd listen and nod and tell her that she was doing everything right and she was so amazing.

I don't know if that's what best friends are supposed to do. Maybe they should be a litlte more honest than I ever was with her. Maybe someone else who wasn't me would have told that she was screwing everything up long before she ever took that bartender home. Maybe a different best friend wouldn't have taken a little bit of pleasure watching her destroy the relationship with the guy I wanted.

What can I say? She sold him well.

I knew more than he thought, even if I told him I knew quite a bit. He knew she thought he was good in bed; he didn't know I knew how big he was. He knew she liked the way he kissed; he didn't know she loved the things he could do with his tongue.

When I went into work that Wednesday, roughly three weeks since she had ended things with him, I told myself I was going to break some rules. I was going to throw myself out of my comfort zone and he'd be right there with me.

Of course, it's me, so I still needed something like structure. I ran most of these thoughts by him the night before. I told him I wanted to experiment with him, told him I wanted to be daring for once in my otherwise boring (but enjoyable) life.

And while I told him all the thoughts I was having, the images that were bouncing around my head for the next day at work, I touched myself for the first time in ages. I tried to stay quiet, even covered my mouth while he spoke to me and I felt that tiny explosion in the depths of my body.

I was shivering in my bed, naked, my legs spread, when I realized it was his voice that had done me in. The sultry, melodic vibration of his words that slipped through me and pushed me over that edge I had been standing on for so, so long.

I was standing on one of the ladders, trying to get a sweater hung up on a top rack, when I got a text. I knew I shouldn't, but I reached for my phone anyway because I knew it was him. I smiled when I saw his name on the screen, and smiled wider when I read the text.

Your legs look amazing in a skirt.

I was wearing my favorite one; a dark purple with thin fabric that felt amazing against my skin. I matched it with a shirt that still managed to showcase off my breasts without sacrificing a professional work aesthetic. And I knew it worked because he kept staring at me and I wondered if maybe he had heard me on the phone and he was thinking about what it might feel like for me to moan against his ear or feel me tighten around him when I finally came for him.

I typed back: They would look better wrapped around you and I almost dropped the phone from the sheer electricity that coursed through me.

I hadn't planned on giving him a sign so soon. So early into our work shift. I had only been on the floor four a couple of hours and he had only just walked in. His shift wasn't even supposed to start for another hour.

But I wanted him. And apparently I couldn't wait. My fingers had done the work last night, prompted by his voice, and today they were leading me right along to where I wanted to be.

I looked back at him from the ladder. He was already watching me. He smiled. And that was that.

I moved down the ladder as quickly, as professionally, as I could but my legs were already shaky. When was the last time I had ever been weak in the knees? Had I ever been weak in the knees? Oh god, I was going to follow through with the things I had pictured and that terrified me just as much as it excited me.

I passed him as I sent another text: Bathroom?

His reply was nearly instant: Yes, please.

Please.

My heart skipped a beat and the primordial ooze that connected with the lizard part of my brain, the aspects of humanity that bullheadedly, desperately tried to keep the human race populated, told me I needed to make this happen before I exploded.

I went into the men's bathroom and pressed myself against the sink, which sat just beneath a mirror, with a standard toilet to my left. I waited and didn't realize I was holding my breath until the door opened and he stepped through.

I couldn't even say how many times I had seen him before this moment, but this might as well be the first. His brown hair was tussled, just a little messy, but not in an annoying way. His blue eyes caught the off-white light from behind me and I grabbed the sink's edge a litlte harder.

When he smiled I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his neck, my wrists entwining above his head, and pressed my body against his until my mouth found his. His lips were so soft I almost didn't think they were real, but didn't dare open my eyes to find out. I tilted my head and he did the same and we found the perfect angle so that our tongues could slip and slide against the other comfortably.

I pushed him back against the wall. My heart beat so hard, so quickly, I was worried he might be able to hear it. Or that someone on the other side of the door might be able to and they'd know exactly what was going on in the bathroom.

What was going to happen.

I knew he was on the same page for all the obvious reasons: I could feel his heartbeat trying to match mine, beat for beat; I could feel him against my stomach, a hard line that wasn't there just a moment before. And the not-so-obvious ones, too: the way his hands cupped my face, or his fingers pulled at the base of my neck to make sure that my lips and tongue stayed right there with his.

I couldn't wait. Not anymore. I had done enough of that already. I needed to see for myself, feel for myself, all the things she had spoken about over late night snacks or even in my bedroom when she'd come home from a date that had ended so well she could barely walk.

I grabbed his hands and slipped them under my shirt. At the same time, I turned around and pressed myself backwards, making sure the next few moments were as clear as possible. And, just as she said, he listened well. His hands cupped my breasts, his palms pressing against the surface area of my bra where my nipples hardened underneath. He didn't wait for another command, simply dragging his hands to my back, unclasping my bra, and then he slipped my shirt and undergarment over my head.

I watched myself in the mirror. Watched him. Watched us. I don't know if we were perfect, but we were absolutely right now and that's all I wanted right now.

I stepped foward until I could grab the sink again. My breasts hung in front of me and for the first time in a long time I was happy to see the C-cups freed, no longer hindered by the bra. I grabbed them with my own hand, squeezing, pulling them a little. My nipples were so hard, only getting harder, as I squeezed and pulled them.

He helped, of course, as he watched me play with myself. He had one free hand on my other breast, squeezing, holding it firmly, as his other hand pulled my skirt up and exposed my hip-hugging panties. They didn't match my bra, but I didn't care. I knew they looked good on me and the way he stared, the way his eyes devoured my body, made the mositure between my legs intensify.

His hand slipped off my chest and I watched as he knelt down. Before I could say anything, his tongue was there, where there had only been my fingers the night before and nothing else for so long before today. I grabbed the sink as my body jerked forward instinctively, but I immediately pushed my hips back again and his tongue slipped inside of me for a brief second.

I covered my mouth just in time for the wet muscle to connect with my clit, the same spot that had been the final button to my blast off the night before. He pushed at me with his tongue and I pushed back with my hips. His hands grabbed my thighs and he pulled me even closer, if that were even possible. His tongue swirled and swiped and I spread my legs, even reached back with a hand to grab at his messy hair and pull him towards me.

I didn't just want more. I needed it. I fucking needed it.

He obliged. His tongue slipped north, dragging across my wet lips, before he spread me open and teased my hole with the tip of his tongue again. I moaned against the palm of my hand and my eyes rolled into the back of my head, eyelids blinking rapidly.

And then his tongue was somewhere I had only ever touched once before, just to find out how it felt because she had told me it was amazing. She had been right, of course, and now he proved it all over again. He used his hands to spread me apart, to invite himself to the elements of my body that I had ignored for so long. His tongue circled my anus and I moaned again and again, especially when the tip of his tongue found the inside space.

My vision cleared and I saw him stand behind me. I watched him as he watched me, our eyes locked, and I let my hand slip away from my mouth.

"I can return the favor," I said, licking my lips, as if he needed a visual cue to get my reference.

He smiled that smile and shook his head while his hands went to work unlatching his belt and pushing his pants and boxers down. "Today's just for you."

I wanted to tell him I actually enjoyed it, but he turned me around before I could say anything. I faced him, chest heaving, and he grabbed my hips and lifted me up, setting me down on the sink. He stepped closer to me, slipping between my legs which I spread wider for him, my eyes unable to look anywhere except into his. I wanted to look at his body, wanted to look at him, see the part of his body I had only ever heard described, but I couldn't look away.

He cupped my breasts and licked my nipples, sucked on each, then I felt him, that amazing, pulsating tip of the muscle I wanted so badly. It pressed against my wet lips and, without hesitation, I reached down, grabbed him in my grip, and guided him to where I was only even wetter.

I moaned into his shoulder when he slipped into me. Slowly, slowly, just the tip to start, but I rocked forward and relaxed my muscles and I felt him slip further into me. Half way, and then he was all in. Every. Single. Inch. I could feel the loose fabric of his testicles pressed up against my ass and the sink.

I grabbed his shoulders and he held onto my hips as he started thrusting, moving like the ebb and flow of the ocean as his penis slipped in and out of me. Sometimes he would pull only a small way out before pushing himself back in, and other times he would pull himself all the way out, even ejecting the head out of my hole, before he'd use his fingers to keep me open and thrust back inside.

It started slow, but then it was faster. Harder. I felt his balls slap against my ass and I grabbed at his shoulders, desperate to hold on even though I knew he wouldn't let me go.

"Where do you want me to cum?" He whispered in my ear before he licked and sucked on my earlobe. I squeezed him as hard as I could, desperate to keep his erection inside me for as long as possible, then leaned up to put my lips against his ear.

"Inside of me. It's okay," I said, pulling him closer to me so he understood.

His eyes met mine again and I knew the question there. Was I sure?

I wrapped my legs around him and locked my ankles at the small of his back, pulling him towards me.

He buried his face into my shoulder and I felt the hairs on his chest against my nipples as he thrust into me once, twice, and a third time.

I almost screamed when I felt his entire body convulse, and then his penis throbbed, and I felt him fill me up. My nails dragged across his back and I pushed my pussy towards him, swallowing as much of him as I could, as he deposited more of himself into my depths.

When our bodies finally relaxed and I leaned back, finally seeing him and myself interconnected in the way I had only imagined up until this point, I realized I had been right.

My legs did look amazing wrapped around him.