Crumpled sheets

….following….It started with a kiss…

White sheets crumpled and stained, perspiration droplets dappled our bodies, smeared lipstick on our cheeks. We lay side by side panting, exhausted, exhilarated. The taste of her was on my lips, on my tongue, in my mouth – the heady aroma of her juice, strong in my nostrils, the sound of her final orgasm ringing in my memories ears. Above our heads the skylight spilled sunlight onto the bed in which we’d just made love.

We hadn’t been gently with each other, at least not at the beginning.

It’s not so easy to go from deciding to do something to actually doing it. Especially since the image of her, back pressed against the wall, legs wide, hands pressing on the head of the woman whose tongue was lathing her clitoris was playing on a screen in my imaginations theatre.

The vodka had helped a lot. She had taken the expensive bottle from Christian’s well stocked bar cooler.

“I brought this for him from Poland,” she said, unscrewing the lid and bringing back a couple of shot glasses.
Handing me an empty glass, she filled it to the brim. “L’chayim,” she said.
“Shouldn’t that be Nostrovia?”
She pulled a face. “I hate fucking Russians. They’re all fucking bitches.”

I remembered something Christian had said about the woman who’d broken Imogen’s heart and decided to leave it alone.

One more straight shot and I was feeling very relaxed; another, and the images in my head began to fade. That was when she’d leaned in and kissed me.

We didn’t undress each other. That’s something men do.

We stood at the foot of the bed facing each other as we stripped down to our bra and pants. It’s odd the things you notice, her pants were a delicate beige lace with little bows at the hips. Her matching bra, a pair of lacy cups that contained, rather than held up her firm breasts. Even at that moment, as I was about to commit a kind of adultery, it came into my head that my husband would have loved to handle her tits. Standing a mere three feet apart we looked at each other, before we unclipped our bras, slid our panties down to our ankles and stepping out of them.

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