Andy steeled himself for the confrontation. He knew he was an idiot for cheating on his girlfriend. He really did. She was everything a man could possibly want in a woman – intelligent, witty, fun loving, stunningly beautiful, and rich on top of it all. And what was he? I mean, decent looking guy, okay job, nothing to be ashamed of, but he sure as hell didn't rate Juliet and he knew it. And what did he do? Get caught after hooking up with one of her friends. Sure, Anne was gorgeous, but Juliet was the total package, not just a hot body and a pretty face. He felt himself getting hard and forced it down.
True, Julie hadn't seen anything concrete, but put together her friend in the shower, the bedroom in disarray, and him shirtless and sweaty and you got a pretty damning picture. Since Juliet worked in some kind of chemistry lab or something, she had to undergo some pretty rigorous decontamination to enter or leave work, so she worked three days at a stretch, sleeping at the lab. Her coming home a day early was unheard of, and he had no plans for it happening.
Before he could come up with anything, she had stormed out. He didn't know where she'd gone, but he suspected she'd be back at work by now. She might not be willing to talk to him, but he had to at least try. He mean, what else could he do?
He headed to the visitors area. Once there, he told the receptionist he was there to see Juliet, and she let him into the visiting room. The room was private, and designed with some degree of comfort in mind, but the warmth was somewhat disrupted by the plexiglass shield bisecting the room. After all, they couldn't have visitors contaminating the workers.
"Juliet Harris, please come to the visiting area to meet with Andy Metcalf." The receptionists voice sounded over the PA system. He sat there, breathing slowly and deeply and focusing on projecting confidence and assertiveness. He needed to save this somehow.
Still, he was surprised when Juliet walked in. True, she held herself kind of stiffly, and the look she gave him was cold and blank, but at least she was there.
"Juliet, baby. You know I love you. Right?"
She said nothing. Just stared at him, blank and accusing. The silent treatment was her specialty, but she'd never gone so far as to seek him out just to ignore him.
"You love me too?" Nothing. Not even a twitch. He changed tactics. If only he were better at this.
"You know there was nothing going on there with Anne, don't you? I'd never cheat on you, you know that. I mean, you're amazing. You can trust me."
She continued to stare through him as if he weren't even there.
"Come on. You know how great I am in bed. I'm the best." She'd told him he was the best lover she'd ever had a few weeks back when he'd asked her why she was dating him. It had sounded like a joke, but he was flailing, and he couldn't think of a better reason for her to be with him. Still, as shots go this one was a clear miss. No response whatsoever.
"Fine. If you're not going to talk to me, I may as well not be here. Go back to work." Still in silence, she turned and walked out of the room. He sighed and left. It was over. He just had to face it. He'd blown it, like usual, because he couldn't keep his cock in his pants. He went home. He slept away the rest of his weekend, and went back to work on Monday.
He was moping at home on Wednesday evening when someone knocked at his door. He dragged himself off the couch and opened it, to find Juliet standing there in the shortest skirt and tightest top he'd ever seen her wear. She walked past him into the apartment.
"Hey baby, I'm sorry I haven't talked to you since Friday. There was a containment breach at the lab on Saturday, and we all had to undergo some pretty extensive physicals before we could leave. No harm done, though. And I'm so sorry about storming out on Friday, but that bitch Anne was obviously hitting on you. I thought she was my friend. I was so mad, I just stormed out."
He stood there, gaping. What the hell? As he scrambled for something to say, she blithely went on. "Anyway, when I thought about it on Saturday, I realised you might think I suspected you of something, and I felt so awful for putting you through that. And then with me being unable to contact you, I knew you'd be thinking the worst. So, I felt like he should come here and make it up to you." As she spoke, she reached past him to give the door a firm push, taking hold of his wrist and gently pulling him around to face her, and then throwing herself at him in a leap that staggered him. He would have fallen if he hadn't had the door behind him to take his weight. Instead, he found himself sandwiched between it and his very insistent girlfriend.
The kiss she gave him had an intensity he'd never felt from her before, an electric quality that tingled through his whole body, like she was trying to French his soul. Her body was grinding against him, her high-heals (he'd only seen those before at weddings and parties) bringing her height up even with his. Her hands pushed their way under his t-shirt, exploring his torso with something too urgent to be called a caress, but of the same general character.
He shook himself (metaphorically) out of the stunned amazement that was paralyzing his faculties, and brought his arms up around her, one arm pulling her more tightly against him while the other buried itself in her the silken luxury of her chestnut locks. Tugging firmly on her hair, he pulled her head back to explore her neck, and she moaned helplessly, her pelvis pushing insistently into his as she struggled to pull his t-shirt up over his head without halting his attentions to the soft expanse of skin beneath his lips. He grazed her neck gently with his teeth, the shadow of a bite, before trailing his tongue gently up to her ear, and she shivered against him with a long moan. Behind his ear, he heard the sound of cloth ripping, and with a last nip at her earlobe (she squealed and shuddered at that) he disengaged long enough for her to pull off his t-shirt.
By the time his vision was clear again, her top was on the ground as well, and her bra halfway to joining it. He brought his hands down to her waist, sliding them up as her bra disengaged so that his hands replaced the cups almost seamlessly, a well oiled machine. Her breasts were spectacular, not so much for their size, but for their sheer perfection of form. While not huge, they were a good handful, but more importantly they were still the breasts of a teenager, taut and firm, heavy in his hands and yet as perfectly formed as if they were carved from marble. These breasts had haunted his nights for the last three days, cursing himself for his stupidity as he realised he would never touch them again. And now they were back.
She was kissing him again, while he ran his hands over the supple bounty that was once more his to enjoy, but that wasn't enough. Straining (it wasn't like he was in amazing condition, but this was worth it) he picked her up in his arms, and carried her to the bedroom while she rained kisses over his face and ears. Somehow, the strain barely registered on his consciousness, and by the time he reached the bedroom he felt like he could carry her to Timbuktu if that was the only place he could get his cock into her. He half lowered, half dropped her onto the bed in his haste to drop his mouth to the fleshy treasures that decorated her chest.
Beneath him, her hips writhed against his torso, while the smoothness of her stocking clad legs slid across his skin in search of better leverage. Her hands were buried in his hair, pulling him desperately towards her nipple, while he resisted her direction, trailing his tongue across the soft flesh of her mounds, exploring every inch of them in a meandering path that looped and spiralled its way around them, working its way ever closer. Her hands had ceased to try and direct him now, and were just gripping his hair. The nipple was achingly hard now, and his tongue had trailed almost to the edge of her areola, the warmth of his breath caressing it as he paused for one aching second before trapping it in his lips and stroking his tongue across it, applying a gently suction to slowly draw the areola into his mouth while his tongue teased her nipple. She came, thrashing helplessly beneath him, her hands clawing at his shoulders, then clawing at the bed beside her as she humped herself against him. He reached up and pulled on her other nipple, and another round of shudders wracked her body, the dying climax reviving itself for a few more seconds before finally releasing her. As her body relaxed he breathed in sharply, sucking cold air across the wet nipple, and her body tightened again in a single, solitary tremor.
She lay there for a moment red and panting, and then came to life, her hands going to his pants and making a clumsy but earnest effort to remove them. Approving wholeheartedly of her intent, he lifted his hips to improve her access. After what seemed like hours of fumbling, she had his pants undone, and was using her feet to push them down his legs while her hands abandoned his pants to go directly to his cock, one wrapping lovingly around the base to hold it steady while the other stroked the rest of his length with firm, insistent strokes that each served to pull him up a little closer to his destination.
.... There is more of this story ...