"I should probably leave..."
Inspired by the track by Chris Stapleton (check it out, his voice is droolsome!), Lily's imagination runs away with her again...
A feeling of deja vu washed over her. How many times would she allow herself to be in this place? She knew where this could inevitably lead, as it always did. An evening of reminiscence and knowing looks. The familiar and relaxed conversation as the whisky flowed, their empty glasses on the table in front of them. His hand on her waist as she stood, ready to get her coat. As she looked up at his soft gaze and easy smile, she knew where this could be heading.
He helped her with her coat, and as they stood outside the bar, he adjusted her scarf, his fingers grazing her cheek before resting his hand on her shoulder.
“It’s been good to see you again,” he said, his fingers stroking the collar of her coat as his eyes searched her face for some clue as to the next step.
It would be so easy to meet his gaze, to step those few inches closer to him. To run her hand along his arm, bringing their bodies into contact and fuelling the warmth that was already beginning to grow inside her. She could reach one hand to his face, run her thumb along his jawline as his hand moved from her collar to her hair, running his fingertips across the nape of her neck. She could lean into his frame, pulling his face to hers, allowing her lips to graze his. She could let him know that she had been thinking about this moment for weeks, waiting to show him what she needed. She could let her tongue tease his hungry mouth, touching his lower lip, her body pressed against his. She could let her other hand move across his waist to his cock, knowing he would already be growing hard in anticipation.
She could allow him to hail a cab to his apartment, the journey spent hungrily kissing, his hands restlessly moving over her fully clothed body, wanting to explore her soft flesh beneath.
They could end up in his living room, coats discarded at the door as they make their way to the couch. She could be watching him kneel in front of her, his hands under her dress finding the waistband of her underwear before slowly lowering them over her hips and asking her to sit, as he pulls them over her legs and drops them to the floor. She could be leant back against the cushions, unbuttoning his shirt as his mouth runs along her neck, biting her shoulder, his hands pushing her thighs apart. She could be running her hands through his hair as his mouth moves to her cunt, his tongue running slow, lingering trails across her clit before entering deep inside her, causing low groans to escape her throat as her body tenses and tingles with building pleasure.
She could be sat before him, unbuckling his belt, while his hand grasps a handful of her hair. Unbuttoning his trousers, lowering them and his shorts allowing her access to his now hard cock, enveloping his head between her lips as he pulls her head back so he can watch. She could be fixing his gaze, a fleeting grin across her lips before taking him into her mouth. Running her tongue along his length, allowing her teeth to graze him, his hand in her hair determining the rhythm as her fingers match the movement.
She could be bent over the arm of the couch, his hand on the small of her back with her dress pulled up to her waist. His other hand roughly massaging the flesh of her buttocks before moving his cock between her legs. Spreading her legs further apart with his foot, he would tease her folds with the head of his erection before thrusting inside her. His hand would move beneath her, his fingers finding her engorged clit, knowing exactly how to build her to the brink of orgasm. With one hand expertly teasing her and his cock moving deep inside her, he would take a handful of her hair before pulling her head back, arching her back and allowing him to watch her face as her body reached its limit. Watching her her mouth fall open as she cries out in release, her eyes closed as she focuses on the physical pleasure. His own pleasure would reach its peak and he would cum with a final thrust. She would hear his deep throaty groans behind her, before his body collapses on top of her, their breathing ragged, pulses racing.
She could be curled up in his lap on his couch, his hand stroking her back as he kisses the crown of her head. She would trail her hand over his chest, her head resting on his shoulder, breathing in his cologne and feeling his warmth against her skin.
Knowing this isn’t real.
Knowing this is all he could ever give her.
“It’s been good to see you again,” he said, his fingers stroking the collar of her coat as his eyes searched her face for some clue as to the next step.
“It’s been good to see you too,” she replied, “but I should probably leave.” She planted a kiss on his cheek, then turned and pulled her coat around her as she walked away.