The damp spot, again. Rachel stood in the middle of her living room, large eyes surveyed the furniture in a sweeping arc, taking in the expensive carpet, the beige leather sofa, coffee table with its customary one or two magazines carelessly strewn on the polished ash effect top. Jim's television sat brooding and silent in the far corner, silently observing her return to her home after so long. Her reflection dimly mirrored her image in the black glass. A still, thin figure, dressed in jeans and a shirt as it surveyed the room. The television was Jim's, he bought it on a whim, not discussing it with her, just rubbing his hands together like Uriah Heap in anticipation of the delivery truck.
I was looking to tease her from the off, it had been quite a few dates now and more and more the topic of sex had popped up in conversation, it hadn't been coincidence, she'd been deliberately doing it and she was practically gagging for it although she did disguise it well. I was going to engage with her sexually the next time we met. I invited her round and we began to watch television, it was mediocre and boring but as soon as the adverts came on the screen. I came alive, I clambered on top of her on the sofa and began to straddle her.
It was the end of July and my usually predictable lifestyle had been disrupted, albeit pleasantly by a third year biology student called Amy. I had been single for a year and that was a long time for me. Suddenly one reaches a certain age and the urges are still there but the opportunities seem to grow fewer. I had been with my ex girlfriend for three years. I was forty one when I had met her. The shock of turning forty had passed and I felt good to be in a relationship. However, three years tested my inclination of not being monogamous to its limits and for one reason or another we fizzled out. Now, at forty five I was looking for excitement.
The girls around the block put their request with my stepdaughter to attend the "nudist colony" for the weekend. We joined about 7 years ago and it has been the best investment any incestuous family could make...We have a few BDSM friends at the camp site who occupy the basement in the main clubhouse. Usually they have a few sex slaves but when they have unsuspecting first timers who need constant attention, our friends put on quite a show for the camp site. This is my 3rd marriage in 10 years.
The summer of 2012 was remarkable for two reasons. There was the Olympic Games and the euphoria engendered by that four yearly spectacle of human achievement and then for me, there was Amy. While the former attraction was all over and done with in two weeks - not counting the paras - Amy hung around for a while longer.
Well my job was based around exercise which was why I love my job. I love exercise, I love the burning sensation run through my muscular arms as I lift the weights and ignore the admiring advances of the women in Lycra to my left, I focused purely on pulling this heap of metal up and down until I was completely sapped of energy. After month after month of consecutive gym sessions on a daily basis, I was approached by a sharp looking woman in a business suit who proposed that I should become a personal trainer. I mean I get to exercise more and the gym was my social habitat; one that I thrived in as I could return the seductive gazes and join in with the banter thrown around but I didn't have any other alternative so I bit her hand off.
It was my last client of the day and I was dreading it, I could see the snow beginning to fall against the window and I knew that if I wasn't carefully, I could end up being snowed in at work and I couldn't think of something worse. I did decide however to make an effort as I lit the candles and let the aroma of vanilla drift through the air and fill the room. The room was nice and warm and I was ready as I stood there in my plain white uniform. I heard the bell ring which indicated the door had been opened and stepped out expecting to be rubbing the muscle of yet another strapping young lad who'd pulled something whilst playing some sort of exercise but I couldn't have been more wrong!
Dean, a nineteen year old guy that I'd been talking to increasingly often, arrived at my house around 7pm like he said he would, and I got a little uneasily into his old silver car as he held the door open for me. By the time I got to Dean's I was even more nervous for no particular reason, but I was relieved the drive had gone smoothly (at least in my opinion) and that we had managed to keep the conversation going... Or at least I waffled on enough for the both of us. I followed him on weak legs into the back garden where a large shed had been converted into his bedroom.
I approached your house and knocked on your door, as I stood on your doorstep in the cold, I saw a slither of light protruding through the door frame, there was no answer but the door was slightly ajar so I entered. I slowly opened the door and I quickly reached the top of the stairs, I turned right and approached her room, I walked in and saw the pile of clothes on the floor- her tank top and shorts and her lacy bra and underwear too. This led me to the conclusion that she was in the shower, so I quickly left her room and approached the bathroom and I knew from previous experiences that the lock on the door didn't work and also she had a phobia of being locked in a place.
I heard the announcement that the gate for our flight was now open. We were first in the queue and there were less than a score of people on the flight anyway which was unusual but it was off peak and early morning. We were shown to our seats, they were on the back row, we had our personal screens on the back on the each of the seats, the toilets were just around the corner from us and the air hostesses was at the other end of the plane. We had some privacy as we were travelling business class whilst only one other person was and he was already falling asleep. There were four rows on either side of aisle between us and the next couple. I stretched out and pecked you on the cheek.