and was playing with him while she watched Mark work his tongue between my legs. I locked eyes with her date, his eyes were dark and soft and quite beautiful.
His face was so full of desire that it was nearly like making love to him as Mark made love to me. It wasn’t long before waves of pleasure made me arch my back and cry out “Oh GOD!” as I came — the longest orgasm I’d had in years. Years.
I pulled Mark up to my face, and he put his mouth on mine as his hard cock slipped into me like a piece of ivory. I could taste my wetness on his lips as I felt his cock at the very back of my vagina. I opened my eyes again as he kissed my throat. I saw the woman had gone to her knees in front of the soft-eyed man and was taking him as deep into her throat as she could as he stared at us.
I could tell Mark was about to come inside me, and I was nearly ready to come again. When I saw the man at the foot of the bed explode into the mouth of the woman in front of him, just as Mark exploded into me, my body gave itself up to another wrenching orgasm. Mark emptied into me; I was limp and receptive. We lay like that for at least ten minutes as the crowd drifted away.
“My God,” I said at last.
“Yeah,” was all Mark said.
Eventually we got dressed, walked out of the club and into a remarkably soft Seattle night. We didn’t talk on the way home, I kept a hand between his legs, he kept a hand between mine. When he needed to shift, he let go of the wheel for a moment and shifted with his left hand. I’d never felt so close to him.
At home we made love again before we fell asleep. It was anything but routine.
• • • •
Mark and I added “clubbing” as we called it, to our life. It was another world, and we kept it separate from our “normal” lives. It wasn’t every weekend, or even every month. Some nights we would add it to our normal routine of going out to dinner. If there were special functions at SASSA, we’d talk about going.
If we were out of town, we’d look into the availability of clubs wherever we were; San Francisco, of course; Denver, Vancouver, Portland. It was really surprising how often we could find some place to play in public.
We had two rules: no touching by others, and either of us could say “enough” and we’d leave, no discussion or argument.
Neither of us ever said “enough.”
• • • •
It was Claire’s idea that she, Sarah, Lily, and I meet every morning.
“To keep us on the same page,” she said. I’d have a round of coffees and muffins or bagels delivered and we’d catch up.
Claire had a spreadsheet of court and filing dates, and we’d discuss who was where with what. Scheduling was interspersed with other talk. Claire teasing me about not having children or Sarah talking about her partner, a woman we’d never met named Sally, whose possessiveness seemed to cause Sarah more exasperation than joy.
Lily, always the quietest of the group, didn’t participate much in that back-and-forth. We didn’t think about it much, but one morning we found out why.
We’d ended the meeting and gone back to our desks. I’d closed my door to concentrate on writing a brief when I heard voices raised.
Then I heard Claire use a voice I’d never heard.
“Listen, mutherfucker, you get back in that elevator and on the street right fucking now or your ass is gonna be in jail in fifteen fucking minutes, you hear me now?”
I opened the door and saw her standing about eight inches away from a stocky man in work clothes, his round face red. When I came out he turned toward me, and Claire moved again right in front of him.
“Where’s Lily?” the man asked over the top of Claire’s head.
“Why? Who are you?” I said.
“I got this, Jessica,” said Claire. “Did you hear me?” She said to the man. “The elevator is that way. You get on it and leave this office. Now.”
“I’m Lily’s fiance. We have to talk,” he said.
“You are NOT my fiance,” came a
His face was so full of desire that it was nearly like making love to him as Mark made love to me. It wasn’t long before waves of pleasure made me arch my back and cry out “Oh GOD!” as I came — the longest orgasm I’d had in years. Years.
I pulled Mark up to my face, and he put his mouth on mine as his hard cock slipped into me like a piece of ivory. I could taste my wetness on his lips as I felt his cock at the very back of my vagina. I opened my eyes again as he kissed my throat. I saw the woman had gone to her knees in front of the soft-eyed man and was taking him as deep into her throat as she could as he stared at us.
I could tell Mark was about to come inside me, and I was nearly ready to come again. When I saw the man at the foot of the bed explode into the mouth of the woman in front of him, just as Mark exploded into me, my body gave itself up to another wrenching orgasm. Mark emptied into me; I was limp and receptive. We lay like that for at least ten minutes as the crowd drifted away.
“My God,” I said at last.
“Yeah,” was all Mark said.
Eventually we got dressed, walked out of the club and into a remarkably soft Seattle night. We didn’t talk on the way home, I kept a hand between his legs, he kept a hand between mine. When he needed to shift, he let go of the wheel for a moment and shifted with his left hand. I’d never felt so close to him.
At home we made love again before we fell asleep. It was anything but routine.
• • • •
Mark and I added “clubbing” as we called it, to our life. It was another world, and we kept it separate from our “normal” lives. It wasn’t every weekend, or even every month. Some nights we would add it to our normal routine of going out to dinner. If there were special functions at SASSA, we’d talk about going.
If we were out of town, we’d look into the availability of clubs wherever we were; San Francisco, of course; Denver, Vancouver, Portland. It was really surprising how often we could find some place to play in public.
We had two rules: no touching by others, and either of us could say “enough” and we’d leave, no discussion or argument.
Neither of us ever said “enough.”
• • • •
It was Claire’s idea that she, Sarah, Lily, and I meet every morning.
“To keep us on the same page,” she said. I’d have a round of coffees and muffins or bagels delivered and we’d catch up.
Claire had a spreadsheet of court and filing dates, and we’d discuss who was where with what. Scheduling was interspersed with other talk. Claire teasing me about not having children or Sarah talking about her partner, a woman we’d never met named Sally, whose possessiveness seemed to cause Sarah more exasperation than joy.
Lily, always the quietest of the group, didn’t participate much in that back-and-forth. We didn’t think about it much, but one morning we found out why.
We’d ended the meeting and gone back to our desks. I’d closed my door to concentrate on writing a brief when I heard voices raised.
Then I heard Claire use a voice I’d never heard.
“Listen, mutherfucker, you get back in that elevator and on the street right fucking now or your ass is gonna be in jail in fifteen fucking minutes, you hear me now?”
I opened the door and saw her standing about eight inches away from a stocky man in work clothes, his round face red. When I came out he turned toward me, and Claire moved again right in front of him.
“Where’s Lily?” the man asked over the top of Claire’s head.
“Why? Who are you?” I said.
“I got this, Jessica,” said Claire. “Did you hear me?” She said to the man. “The elevator is that way. You get on it and leave this office. Now.”
“I’m Lily’s fiance. We have to talk,” he said.
“You are NOT my fiance,” came a
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