It was my weekend alone at the house. The girls had managed to get a deal for the spa and a room and decided that we would hang out at my place on Sunday.

I walked into town and met them at the inn. We had all booked an afternoon of massage and other luxuries.

It was at dinner that he came up to me. The shop had closed for the weekend and they were retreating together as a team. He asked how I was and after introducing him to the girls we chatted for a moment before he was called back to his table. It was nice running into him. I had had a fondness for him since we met months ago.

We stayed at our table long into the evening and then moved to the bar. It was close to midnight and I wanted to head home. The girls headed to their room and we made loose plans for the next day. He was reading a newspaper by the fireplace when I passed through the lobby. His gang had headed into town where the lights were brighter and the call of the slot machines made their own music.

Are you headed home?

Yes. The fresh air will do me some good.

You’re walking?

He insisted that he drive me. Or, at the very least, walk with me.

We talked about design and architecture; I leaned in to listen to his stories. It was a cool night and by the time we made it to my street, we were both shivering. I asked him to come in.

I poured us a glass of wine and we sat in front of the fireplace for the longest time. He was charming. Bright and interesting. I knew then that he wouldn’t be leaving for the night.

We didn’t even talk about it. At some point, he put his glass down and took my hand and led me upstairs. He cupped my face in his hands, kissed me, whispered in my ear that I was beautiful.

Our bodies fit together easily. He was kind and gentle and I didn’t need to tell him what I wanted or needed.

We fell asleep and awhile later I woke to him biting my shoulder and rubbing my hips. It was late morning when we finally made our way downstairs to make tea and toast.

The girls called and I told them that I had a terrible migraine and needed to lie in a dark room for awhile. It was half true. I did need to lie in a dark room. Neither of us were ready for this to end.

Not to worry, rest, we’ll see you later.

I should have felt guilty. But I didn’t. I hadn’t felt like this in so so long. I could tell he hadn’t either. We took a shower and ended up back in bed, the sheets crumpled around us. Our phones lit up with text messages and we made excuses to stay in bed all afternoon. My ‘migraine’ was not responding to my medication and he had a touch of food poisoning.

We talked long into the night. How were we going to see each other again? Would he visit me here? Would we dare meet in the city? Yes. Yes to it all. We both had to drive back to the city in our own cars; the physical separation was painful. He called my phone and whispered all the ways he was already missing me.

We stole moments of each other’s day with text messages built with emojis which he didn’t really understand, only making it funnier. We needed to see each other. I needed to touch his skin, to have his hands on the back of my neck and face when he pulled me towards him. We made hasty plans for me to meet him after work. It hadn’t even been 24 hours.

It was raining when I got to our meeting spot; my palms were clammy and I held my breath as his car pulled up. He jumped out with an umbrella and ran to greet me. Men still do that?

The lights were changing as we buckled in and he leaned over to kiss me as the car behind him laid on his horn.

ok..ok..He winked at me and drove off. We didn’t say anything for a few blocks and then he turned into a familiar neighbourhood. A colleague from work lived around here. I held my breath. We turned a few more corners, the homes were blurry in the rain. Up the driveway of charming bungalow with a large covered porch.

He held the door for me and guided me inside with a hand on my lower back. Just inside the door, he pressed himself against me and inhaled deeply, moaning slightly.

Can I give you the official tour later?

It was raining harder now and the sky had darkened to a steely grey. Our breaths, getting shorter and more laboured, were the only sounds aside from the patter of rain against the glass.

How was your day? He finally asked, rolling off me.

We laid there until the street lights came on. I didn’t want to get up but he insisted on making us something to eat. He opened a bottle of wine and cooked while we caught up on our day like it was the most natural thing in the world. Afterwards, he showed me the rest of his home; it was lovely, like him.

It was late and I had to get home. There wasn’t an excuse good enough for me not to sleep in my own bed. Almost on cue, my phone screen flashed brightly.

Hi. When are you coming home? I miss you.

He looked at me and smiled grimly.

I guess I should take you home.

We rode in silence for most of the trip; he reached for my hand and kissed it.

I’ll miss you.

I’ll miss you too.

We wouldn’t see each other again until the weekend. We decided to spend it at his place; constructing plans to be away was easy for now. A friend out of town had asked me to visit. I would head out Friday night and come home late Sunday.

Friday night was quiet, two bottles of wine and some cheese and crackers. He told me about his marriage and I told him about mine. It didn’t matter when we were together. Everything was forgotten. I forgot how old I was and that he was thirteen years my senior. That he had had a lifetime before meeting me and a marriage that had weathered storms until it could not any longer. They hadn’t had children and neither had we.

He drew on my body with his fingers and touched my soul with his lips. Time stopped for those moments and I ached. I ached inside and all over my body and in anticipation of it ending. And when it did end, I ached until the next time.

We woke early, packed a light lunch and drove out of the city. The sun high in the sky, we took side roads and sang to songs on my playlist and laughed at each other.

We ended up at the edge of a lake. He held my hand as we walked along the rocks. It was the way he held my hand that made me pause. It sounds silly but it had meaning.

There was so much care in the way he took my hand. He kissed me with care. There was an urgency or desperation though when he grabbed my hips or my shoulders to deepen his touch inside me. I could feel his touch long after he had finished. It was what drew me to him. I couldn’t stop wanting it.

He stopped when we reached a large flat rock, big enough for me sit with my back against his chest and his arms around me, our legs outstretched in front. He tucked my hair behind my ear, kissed my neck, whispering that he wanted me. Again and again.


I was done for. I couldn’t see a way out. I wanted him. Again and again. And told him so.

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