Always a difficult moment, probably means she’s with another man. Easy enough in principle, more difficult in actuality. But sometimes, no help for it, planet Earth’s no place for the thin-skinned.
Oh, okay, do you know if she’s free at three o’clock. Yes, that’s fine, I’ll text you the address. Oh, that’s okay, you’re in the Marylebone apartment. No, we’ve moved, now we’re near Finsbury Park. Okay, thanks, send it to me.
Ringing her doorbell. The door opening and Jenny’s face appearing, brightening into a smile. Oh, hi, it’s you, oh good, I thought I’d lost you. A hug and a kiss. Taking my hand, leading me through. Another hug. Smiles on both our faces. Special friends and special lovers, somehow. Her hand undoing my belt and fly, pushing down my jeans, kneeling, pulling down my undershorts, taking my cock in her mouth.
Minutes passing, a heavenly blur. Her body sensing my desires, positioning itself to be touched or licked or entered. Her hands stroking my chest, legs, back. Lying on her tummy, hands reaching behind her to stretch apart her buttocks, tight sphincter pink in the bedroom’s afternoon light. Turning round, taking me in her mouth again.
After half an hour, replete. Hugging her gently, making to get up. Her face puzzled, crestfallen, hey, no orgasm, stay, baby, stay. No, darling Jenny, it’s just too intense and ecstatic, it’s been wonderful, better than an orgasm. Her face still doubtful, hesitating, finally saying, okay baby, you come back, tomorrow maybe, no charge, finish off then. Okay, darling Jenny, it’s a deal.
A last kiss. Closing the door behind me, making my way to Finsbury Park for a stroll, body and spirit replenished.
