So it's late Friday evening, actually very early Saturday morning. You finished work a few hours ago, went home, showered, debated coming to mine, decided you couldn't be bothered and yet half an hour later you were in your car and now you're standing outside mine with your finger poised to ring the bell.
You're wearing jeans with a belt - you know I hate them but you think it's funny so you do it anyway - a black t-shirt and a jacket.
You're wondering whether this was a good idea. You didn't warn me you were coming and I'm probably asleep by now. You press the doorbell and wait but there's no noise from the intercom, maybe this will be a wasted trip and you should just go home and pretend nothing ever happened. You press it again and nothing happens.
Oh well, it was a stupid idea anyway, you shove your hands in your pocket and turn to leave, then the door opens...
"Hi" I say sleepily. I'm standing shivering in the doorway wearing just a vest and shorts. You can see my nipples poking through the material.
"Always answer the door dressed like that do you?" you ask with a smile.
"Oh hush and come in, it's cold" I reply grabbing your hand and pulling you in, closing the door quietly behind us. I lean back against the door and pull you hard towards me, both hands in the waistband of your jeans. You put out your hands to stop from falling then lower them to my waist as I kiss you and wriggle my hands further down the front of your jeans, restricted in my movement by your bloody belt! You run your hands up and under the back of my vest and inside my shorts.
Then there's the sound of someone walking up the drive to the front door. I giggle and whisper that we should take this somewhere less public. I grab your hand and lead you up the stairs in the dark. As we reach the top step a key turns in the lock and I push you towards my front door as the lights in the hall flicker on. I push you inside and shut the door after us, less quietly this time.
"So," I say, "this is my flat". There are no lights on except for the strip showing under the front door and it's difficult for you to see where you're going. I steer you to the door on the left and warn you to watch out for the futon. Too late, I suspect, as I feel you stumble against it and fall slightly. You put out one hand and catch yourself, rolling on to your back and pulling me to land on top of you...
You reach up and pull my head down to yours and kiss me again, running your other hand up and down my back, pushing my vest up and scraping your nails down my spine. There's something about that which really turns me on but your belt is digging into my stomach and it's got to go. I sit back on your legs and unbuckle the belt, pulling it out of the loop holes and rolling in into a ball before aiming and throwing it at the open window. It unravels slightly from its loop and catches the frame before dropping to the floor.
"Oh well," I say, "it's the thought that counts right?"
Belt problem solved, I slip my hands under your t-shirt, pushing it up so that I can run my fingers over your chest before pulling you up and yanking it over your head. The t-shirt goes in the same direction as the belt, luckily not as far as the window - not sure how I'd explain that to the lady downstairs in the morning - but far enough.
.... There is more of this story ...