First Fruits

I once was a good boy. I played by all the rules, including the fidelity rule. In fact, I played by the rules and went beyond them. Like everyone, I had my moments of temptation – not in terms of situations, but I noticed a lovely face or a shapely figure. But that was it – at times I even went so far as to look the other way if my wife pointed out a pretty woman, so as not to be tempted to look and comment. That was then. Then came May 8 th . Thursday. May 8 th . I drove for an hour and a half to get to my meeting, being held in a smaller town in one of those corporate boardroom rentals. A shared reception area, and several small offices for hire. My meeting was scheduled to take place in one of those offices. I arrived early. That’s always my habit, afraid of traffic and delays on longer drives. The meeting was set to begin at 10:00 a.m., but I was there by 9:00 a.m. Too early to go into the office itself, so I waited in the reception area. She was the administrator, and was sitting at reception, and also busying herself with making coffee, putting out cookies, re-arranging magazines and newspapers on the end tables. We kept looking at each other, as I sat there patiently waiting, smiling when we made eye contact, but no real conversation to speak of. She was busy and I didn’t disturb her activities. I tried to look busy, reading my file. In truth, I had read the file several times over the past few days. I was just trying to look like I was doing something other than watching her. Yes, I noticed another woman. She wasn’t the classic beauty of magazine covers, but in truth nobody is, and that isn’t a definition of beauty to which I subscribe. She was not very tall, standing about five feet, maybe even four foot eleven, and her figure was petite, though she was busty. She had a lovely and warm smile and her eyes simply pierced through me each time she looked in my direction. I could not look away. Slowly almanbahis the other people attending my meeting arrived and we filed into the office for our business. Throughout the day, we would take breaks, going to the men’s room or grabbing a coffee or some cookies. Over the lunch break, everyone else left to go to a restaurant across the street, but I stayed behind to make some notes on my file. She stayed behind too. Each time we would pass each other, we would look at one another with the same type of glance, casual yet purposeful. There was a sense of recognition in our looks. And then the day came to a close. I had the largest pile of documents in my file, so it took me longer to pack up my briefcase, and by the time I was ready to go, everyone else had left. Except for her. She came into the office with a spray bottle of furniture polish (my best recollection, if it matters, is that it was Pledge), and some paper towels, and she began to wipe down the boardroom table. Coffee cups were cleared off first. I offered to help clean up, and over dirty coffee cups and fingerprints and smudges on the table, we began to talk. She was 44. I was 44. She was divorced with two children. I was married with one child. She was dating a man to whom she expected to become engaged. I was in a marriage that was far from ideal, lacking in intimacy and communication. We were of two different ethnic backgrounds, two different faiths, and yet we shared many of the same basic values. We talked and I found out that she came from another country, a small rural area, and it happened that one of my closest friends also came from that same area. Our conversation moved from the boardroom out to the reception area. It was only 4:00 p.m., and she still had to stay by the phones until 5:00 p.m. We continued talking and somehow we strayed onto the topic of sex. And then somehow we strayed onto the topic of seduction. Our almanbahis yeni giriş conversation was charged with sexual tension. In addition to that, there were these small but curious things that linked us, and perhaps made us feel a stronger connection. There was her place of birth and its link to my close friend. Then it turned out that I shared the same first name as her boyfriend, and more coincidentally, we shared the same birth date. We felt a connection and our discussions were free flowing and intimate. And then seduction. She sat at her desk and I stood up from my chair and walked closer to her. She was eating a fruit salad from a Tupperware container, and she offered me some. I took a strawberry. I took a piece of honeydew. “If I were trying to seduce someone, what I could do is take a piece of fruit, like a strawberry, for instance, and do this,” I said, as I took a strawberry and placed it to her lips, as if to feed it to her. She took the strawberry into her mouth, along with one of my fingers, which she proceeded to suck on briefly, savoring the sweet juices of the strawberry. “You could,” she said, “if you were trying to seduce someone.” “The whole idea,” I continued, “is to create that sense of intimacy, and transform ordinary acts, such as eating, into sensual acts, with suggestions of sexuality.” “I see you have it all worked out,” she responded. “Or in the alternative,” I noted, “you could approach it more directly, in a more bold fashion, and do this…” I took another strawberry and placed it between my lips, and leaned forward to feed it to her. She took the strawberry in her mouth, and allowed her lips to come up and meet mine, resulting in a sweet kiss, as I felt her gently and quickly chew the strawberry to swallow it, and free up her tongue. Her tongue then probed outward from between her lips into my mouth, finding my tongue, and we kissed intently for several minutes. almanbahis giriş Our hands wandered toward each other and we pulled our bodies close together, with her still sitting in her chair behind the reception desk, and me leaning forward toward her. As we broke off our kisses, my hands moved toward her breasts, and I lifted her blouse up, exposing her bra. I slipped her breasts out from within the cups and was face to face with her milky, white skin, with light pink nipples atop her breasts. They were ample and firm breasts, and I caressed them with both hands, playing with her nipples, and then allowing myself to lean forward even more and take her left nipple in my mouth. I had been married at that time for about a decade and a half, and had known my wife for several years prior to getting married. All told, this was the first woman beside my wife whom I had kissed in nearly twenty years, and the first nipple I had sucked and licked in the same amount of time. Her breasts were delicious and I continued to enjoy the taste and textures of her nipples between my lips, as my tongue circled around and flicked the erect pink protuberances. She wore black pants, with a slightly elasticized waist, but not stretchy enough to allow my hand to slip inside them. I undid the button on her pants and at the same time shifted my position, and picked her up from her chair into a standing position. I pushed the waist of her pants down until they rested, along with her panties, just below her sex, on her hips. She was shaved, and I reached down and began to finger her. There was no subtlety in what I did – I simply began to finger her with a view to making her climax. I reached behind her with one hand and braced her close to my body while my other hand worked feverishly on her wet slit, probing and exploring her deeply and touching and playing with her labia and her clit. She came quickly, shaking in my grasp, and my hand and the whole room, in fact, smelled of her sweet fragrance. I am not the strongest man around, but she was quite petite, and I lifted her up and sat her down on the top of her desk, so that her pussy was closer to eye level for me.