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We met for a late-night drink. Just one. A martini, cold and harsh in an empty bar. We made small talk and allowed our legs to touch beneath the table. Her bare legs rubbed against the fabric of my pants and I saw spots of colour that had nothing to do with alcohol appear on her cheeks…a tinge of rouge colour on the pale, oval face framed by jet-black hair. She put her fingers on my forearm while we talked, then traced her lips slowly with a fingertip. We finished our drinks and I eyed her slowly and asked if I could drive her home. She smiled demurely and said ‘of course’. I touched the small of her back as we stood, and she stepped in closer and closer as we made our way to my car, alone in the quiet parking lot. When we reached the car I stopped and looked her in the eyes while I traced the line of her jaw. I could see she wasn’t quite sure what to expect…but she was flushed, curious….aroused. Instead of opening the door, I took her hand in mind and drew a circle on her palm with. I could hear his shyness even now; he’d always felt a little intimidated by me, I think.I took his answer as assent--that I could come into his bedroom--and did, only to turn and come face to face with my almost brother-in-law stretched out on his bed, the curtains drawn, with his hand wrapped around his very thick, very hard, and very large cock.A sudden, unexpected burst of arousal shot through me at the very sight of it, but I felt my cheeks redden a little as well. Roger looked absolutely stunned, and his hand had abruptly stopped mid-stroke.‘I’m--I’m so sorry,’ I choked out. I looked away, at the floor, as if it were suddenly a very fascinating and very rare creature. ‘I should have waited for you to reply. Sorry.’ I began to shuffle out, but stopped when I realized I hadn’t delivered my message. ‘Oh--your mum wanted me to remind you you’ve got to water the cows at half three.’My eyes, despite the logical part of my mind’s urging NOT to, fell back onto his hand, still exactly.
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