The next day I woke up happy. So I’ve finally done it, I hummed, better late than never. I could smell her on my finger tips, even after I’d washed my hands. I was sure by then that she must really love me. And I thought that she must be as impatient to see me again and get intimate once more as I was
So I waited for her to call with a certain amount of anticipation. Wanting to hold her and touch her again. And to make love to her. To feel her come under my fingers again would be such bliss. I’m afraid I let my imagination run wild. But she didn’t phone.
Then I had lunch and waited for her to call. Thinking that she mush be a late riser. Especially on a Saturday, when you’ve been working hard all week, you deserve a little lay in. My dreams began to go a little stale when she didn’t phone in the afternoon either.
Then I had dinner and thought well if we are to go out to night she must surely call soon.
At around about half eight or a quarter to nine that evening I finally admitted to myself that she wasn’t going to call. But I knew she would have a very good reason for not doing so. Though I couldn’t think of any at the time. The thought that she didn’t phone because she wasn’t interested in me began to occur to me. But I dismissed it on every occasion.
On Sunday I again got out of bed early and waited for her to phone. She didn’t. She didn’t phone in the morning, to perhaps arrange to do something in the afternoon. She didn’t phone in the afternoon to arrange something for the evening. She didn’t phone in the evening to apologise for not phoning earlier and to explain that she’d been rushed off her feet all weekend by an unexpected visitation of family members. She simply didn’t phone.
By Monday I was calling her “That Bitch!” and vowing if I ever saw her again I’d give her a piece of my mind and tell her what she could go do with herself as well. But I couldn’t understand it. Why did she have sex with me if she didn’t like me? And if she did like me why didn’t she phone? The thought that she might view our relationship in a more casual light didn’t enter my head. It was all black or white to me. Either it was on or it was off. All or nothing. It just shows you what strong emotion can do for your tolerant, liberal ideas.
On Tuesday I got the shock of my life when she came up to me at the Camera Club and before I could say anything asked, “Don’t you ever answer your phone, Kevin?”
I felt my jaw open in shock. “What?” I said.
“I was phoning you all weekend,” she explained. “And you never answered.”
“Never answered?” my mind had still failed to comprehend what she was saying. “What do you mean, never answered?”
She was getting annoyed, “I mean the phone rang and nobody picked it up.”
“But I was home most of the weekend,” I didn’t say I’d barely strayed more than three feet from the phone. “And you never called.”
“Your number’s 477217, isn’t it,” she stated.
“No it’s 477210,” I replied, a glimmer of light appearing in the gloom. “Have you been phoning 477217?”
“Yes,” she said. “That’s the number you gave me.”
“No it’s not,” I could see she was about to argue that it was. “But that’s not important. I thought that you didn’t phone because you didn’t want to see me again.”
She smiled, “No, don’t be silly.” She glanced down, “I enjoyed my date with you.”
And I was on cloud nine again. Nothing could mar my happiness. She’d enjoyed herself. She liked me !
“Yeah?” I smiled back. “Do you want to repeat it again next Friday.”
“OK,” she looked up into my eyes.
I looked down into her’s and had a deep urge to put my arms around her. But I managed to suppress the impulse.
Then Mary and John came over to us. Mary glanced at Alexandra and gave me a knowing look.
“We’re going down the pub,” John said. “You coming along?”
“Sure,” I said and looked at Alexandra.
“Yeah,” she agreed.
So we went down to the pub and had a drink. Over the next ten minutes more members of the club drifted in and joined us for the usual after meeting socialising. I sat beside Alexandra and ran my hand up and down her thigh. She put her hand on top of mine and left it there. This physical intimacy with her sent my hormones racing. As I neared the end of my pint I whispered in her ear.
“So are you going to invite me back to your place for a cup of coffee?” I asked, half jokingly.
“All right,” she smiled back.
I raised my eyebrows.
She laughed, “So do you want to come back to my place for coffee, Kevin?”
“That would be nice,” I smiled back and quickly finished my drink. We stood up, said goodbye and left.
As we walked around to her flat I wondered what the others were saying about us. What juicy rumours would be circulating around the club.
The first thing I did when we got to her flat was use the toilet. When I came out she had made instant coffee for us both.
“How do you like yours,” she asked.
“Oh, black, no sugar,” I replied and took one of the mugs from the counter.
She put a drop of milk into the other and sat in one of the armchairs. I sat in the chair beside her. We talked for the next few minutes about this and that. Mostly about the lecture we’d just seen at the camera club. It was some guy who’d been scuba diving in the tropics with an underwater camera. He’d had some really stunning photographs to show. Then I decided to make a move on her.
Kneeling on the floor in front of her, I put my elbows on her knees and smiled up at her. She lent forward, put her hands to my head and we kissed. I ran my hands up her legs and hooked them around her waist. I pushed up against her kiss and she slumped back in the chair. So I ended up leaning forward over her, with her legs to either side of me, resting on my elbows. I put a hand on each of her breasts. Her nipples pressed into the palms of my hands.
I started to unbutton her blouse. She started to breath heavily as I worked my way down and pulled her blouse out of her jeans. I pulled it open to reveal her body. She had a light fuzz of dark hair around her belly button, but my attention was focused on her breasts. Her nipples were clearly visible through the cotton of her bra.
Leaning forward again I put my lips to each nipple in turn and sucked them. Leaving two little damp patches behind. I ran my hands under her and she lifted herself up as I unhooked her bra. I brought my hands around again and ran them up and across her breasts to push her bra clear.
Now I could lick and suck her nipples directly. Which I did for what seemed like ages, but was probably only ten to fifteen minutes. I rubbed and caressed one breast with my hand as I licked and sucked the other. Then I’d switch and rub my warm saliva into her soft skin with my fingers as I licked and sucked the other breast.
Then my knees and back began to complain so I straightened up and sat back on my heels, smiling up at Alexandra. She smiled back and slid off the chair to sit on my lap, her legs pressing against my hips. I reached up to her shoulder and started to push her blouse down.
“No,” she said. “I don’t want to take it off.”
“How about your bra?” I asked.
“OK,” she smiled and pushed the strap down her sleeve and hooked it under her arm. Then repeated it with the other strap and arm and threw the bra onto the bed. I was mesmerised by the movement of her breasts as she breathed in and out. Slowly I bent down to lick and kiss and suck them again. She started to lick and suck my ears and after ten minutes of that I was very hot and very hard.