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Their meal wrapped up, their after-dessert coffees went cold as they talked and worked around what they may have wanted to do next without actually saying it directly. It was their second date. Jane Penrose and Clayton Dangerfield looked into each other’s eyes in a moment of silence. Would one ask if the other would come back to their place. After all it was not late. And it was the weekend. Clayton worried that if he asked, Jane would likely say no. He could sense her pulling back from her earlier enthusiasm. He was up for it, but then he didn’t want to seem too eager.
Finally Clayton spoke up. “That was a pretty good night,” he blurted, and Jane hastily agreed. Which meant that whatever lurking feelings or desires they had were gone. They negotiated and settled up the bill, pecked each other on the cheek at the restaurant door and that was the end of their second date. Clayton felt that he liked Jane for her personality and her looks. She turned him on, she was the type of woman he was after. But the signals that he got from her did not give him any clear answers on how to proceed. If only life was simpler and more straightforward.
As they stepped outside and split to go the different ways to their cars, she laughed trying to make it all seem like a win. “I wonder when we’ll be allowed to see each other again.” She let that float in the air.
They had discussed the virus during the meal. Living in Western Australia meant that the oncoming storm would reach them late, if at all. They had agreed how lucky they were to be so isolated from the rest of the world. They could be prepared. Perth was a place that the virus could be stopped from entering. There were only so many ways in. One airport, one passenger terminal at the port. And one railway station. And 2500 kilometres of road between Perth and Adelaide.
“Could you imagine living in London at the moment,” Clayton mused and they both could imagine because they both had lived on cramped, busy streets that didn’t happen in their wide Perth suburbs. They had crowded onto the Tube and had eaten in restaurants where you knocked your chair against the chairs at the tables behind you because absolutely everything was so close. It made you appreciate Perth that much more. As Jane disappeared, Clayton hoped that he would see her again soon.
Monday in the office seemed like the last day of school to Clayton. No one was doing much work. Management trailed from one serious meeting to the next and everyone else was either checking their favourite news site for virus updates or discussing whether they had secured enough toilet paper on Sunday before it all ran out. Eventually in the mid-afternoon, the meetings broke up. Clayton’s manager, Rose Ballard, called his group together to advise that from Tuesday they would be working from home and checked with them to make sure that they all had connectivity and enough work to keep busy.
“Sorry this is all so sudden,” she apologised, “but at least we are prepared.”
And they were. They had done a trial at-home day a few weeks before.
Clayton texted Jane to tell her the news. Lucky you, she texted back. He couldn’t think of a reply to that, so he left it. He would get back to her later. At home, he checked his office setup in the spare room. His fridge was full, and he had twenty rolls of toilet paper in the cupboard. It wouldn’t be too bad, he thought. He watched the news, saw the premier of the state announce that everything unnecessary was closing and that people would need a good reason to leave their homes. It was happening, it was real.
Clayton worked from home on the Tuesday, day one. To his surprise the technology worked. By the afternoon he was feeling quite chuffed with himself for getting so much done. So much so that at 4.30pm eryaman escort he was surprised to get a message from Rose, his boss, telling him to finish up soon and not to work too late. He logged out with an afternoon and evening to spare. What was he going to do? He texted Jane, asked her what she was up to.
Some of us are still working, she texted back, in our offices. He would text her later, make sure everything was all right. He cooked himself a dinner, fell asleep reading a book and woke up to find it was after nine o’clock. Too late to text her a witty reply.
Clayton turned on the TV but the news was all Covid, so he got on the PC and checked out a few late night sites to see what was popular there. After the usual selection of leg-spread pneumatic blondes got him started, he stumbled on a woman strung up in a dungeon who resembled Jane enough for him to fill in the blanks with his imagination. Clayton unzipped his pants as the woman who was called Elite swung naked on ropes attached from her wrists to the roof while being lightly whipped by a woman in bondage gear and fucked by some electrical device that was inserted in her. A few moments of that was enough to get him off. Clayton was slightly upset that he came so quickly but he kept watching to the end as Elite was fucked by a man in a hood who suddenly appeared. The man came over her pretty quickly, so Clayton felt okay about his own release. Now for the rest of the night. He made himself comfortable then fell asleep reading a book.
After a week or so watching Elite either in the dungeon or on a beach or pretending to be a bad secretary and getting appropriately punished and fucked, Clayton decided to contact Jane again. What are you up to, he texted her in the late afternoon. Oh, just zooming with a few friends, her reply.
What is zooming, he wondered and why would she do it without him. He googled it, and the knowledge didn’t help his mood. He tried to read a book which put him to sleep. When he woke, Clayton logged in to Zoom on his laptop and after a text exchange he found Jane.
“What were you doing?” he asked her.
She laughed in her free and easy way. “I was showing off with some friends.”
“What were you showing off?” he asked with a smile.
“These,” she giggled, holding up her covered breasts at him. Was she drunk?
“Can I see them?” he laughed.
“Sure,” she agreed and flipped her t-shirt over her head and quickly unclipped her bra. “Do you like what you see?” she checked.
“Of course. They look fantastic,” he enthused.
“What do I get to see in return?” she teased.
Clayton flipped his own t-shirt over his head to show off his chest. He was quite proud of it, a hint of muscle definition and enough of a tan. But Jane didn’t seem impressed.
“Is that all?” she enquired.
“You want this?” he asked her, pulling at the top of his jeans suggestively.
“Could be interesting,” she agreed as she played with her breasts. “Play with yours,” she suggested.
He tried tweaking his nipples for her but no. “Nothing’s happening,” he admitted. “Why don’t you come over?”
“I don’t know,” she parried. “This lockdown. I’m not sure if I am allowed.”
“There will be only two of us in the house. What’s to stop you?”
“I don’t think so, wouldn’t I get into trouble,” she challenged with a wry smile then said her goodbyes and clicked off.
Clayton woke in his bed some hours later sure that someone was watching him. He stretched around, alone in his bed and realised that there was a woman standing in the doorway. “Jane,” he asked.
“Hello, I decided to come over after all,” she breathed as she sashayed towards the bed, tossing her clothes on the floor step by step until she was gloriously esat escort naked leaning over him, one breast suspended above his mouth, her nipple just grazing his lips. “What do you want to do,” she whispered as she leaned over for a kiss, pulling the sheets back for a full access to a now wide-awake Clayton.
“Everything,” he urged back at her.
“Let’s do everything in that case,” she agreed as she moved her hips over his and tensed as their bodies met. “Clayton, Clay, she gasped as she ground into him. “Not too fast,” she urged as Clayton responding, grabbed her hips and started to press back at her.
“I never dreamed you were going to be like this,” Clayton mouthed as his chest tingled from the light touch of her nipples, “so intense.” He was struggling for words.
“What did you think,” she gasped into his ear.
“That you would be more restrained,” he responded as he explored the crevice of her bottom with one finger.
“I hold back until I know someone,” she replied. “Isn’t that the best way to be? A surprise to you?” She took his penis in her hand to work it into shape.
“A surprise,” Clayton agreed, clearly smitten. He was imagining what they would soon do and the heights of pleasure they would reach. He was careful not to try to explain any of it in actual words, as his hands searched her body for responses. Her first moan, then her second one impressed on him that he was getting a lot of things right. He felt fantastic.
At work in his home office, Clayton texted Jane as his morning coffee got cold. He had tried to concentrate but things were just not getting done for thinking about her. He thought through his message to get the right tone. He wanted to be polite, not crass or too straightforward. He settled on Thanks for last night, and sent it.
It was a while and another coffee going cold before he got a reply. Glad you liked it, she started. Didn’t think my book club book was that interesting.
Clearly she was toying with him. Assuming she must have mentioned Fifty Shades or something similar at some point during the night, he replied with Can’t wait to read it. And did not get a response to that. But the exchange was enough to break the spell and he was able to get some work done.
Clayton let things drift until the weekend. He called her around lunchtime on the Saturday. They talked small for a while. Clayton tried to bring the conversation towards relationships and theirs in particular. He apologised that he had forgotten which the book club book was. That surprised Jane who reminded him that it was Margaret Atwood’s The Testaments. And he had told her he had already read it.
“I’ve read it,” he blurted, to confirm.
“That’s what I thought you told me,” Jane responded apparently confused by the whole exchange. So Clayton dropped that line and tried to suggest various ways to catch up.
“We could go for a run,” he tried but Jane couldn’t agree to that. Not her thing. “A walk around Mongers Lake?” he tested, but somehow that was outside her interpretation of the shutdown guidelines. “Are you okay with me calling you?” he asked, almost in desperation.
“Call me tomorrow,” she quickly replied. “I like to talk to you,” she added with a passion suggesting that she really meant it. So he felt good, that he had done the right thing.
Clayton still had the whole of Saturday afternoon and night ahead of him.
He worried the next day about what time he should call. He was up and about by 8am, but was sure that was too early. Even before ten might seem eager. Eleven made sense but he looked at the clock and all of a sudden it was after half part eleven and too close to lunch. He called her at 1.30pm but got no answer. So he did things around the house and tried ankara escort to finish his book.
Just after dark there was a knock on his door. He opened it to Jane in a trenchcoat and a smile. “Aren’t you going to let me in?” she grinned opening the coat to show that she only wore sheer panties and a bra. She dropped the coat onto his floor as she stepped past him into the living room. “What do you want?” she demanded, pushing Clayton down onto his lounge so she could stand over him showing off her firm body in lingerie that stressed her assets.
“Everything,” he insisted, pulling his t-shirt over his head.
“That’s what you always say,” she laughed, but with a look that said that it was all right with her.
Clayton sat back on his couch as Jane stood over him.
“This is the part I like, the teasing,” she continued as she adjusted her lace panties. “What could I get you to do to see these?” she challenged, moving her hands up over her bra, hiding any sight of her breasts. Clayton noticed she was tweaking her nipples, suggesting that she was deep into the game. He was too. This was a dream coming true.
“I could cook you dinner,” he offered, hoping it sounded as lame as he meant it to be.
“I didn’t know you could cook,” she replied as she plonked onto the arm of the lounge, legs spread invitingly and just out of reach. “I don’t think we had got around to discussing things like that yet?” She fiddled with her bra and her panties, making sure she kept his attention on her near nakedness.
“I will absolutely learn to cook if it helps,” he joked. They would one day discuss practical things.
“There’s never enough time,” she suggested. “Why don’t you just have your way with me?” Jane raised her eyebrows in a way that clearly said give me some action.
Clayton stripped off the rest of his clothes. He flicked off his trainers and socks, undid his jeans and slid them down his legs and out of the way. He looked to Jane who nodded her approval, so he slid down his jockeys, then beamed at Jane.
“Make it hard first,” Jane purred as she stroked herself through her panties.
Clayton obeyed and didn’t need much time to get strongly erect as he jerked himself off for her. “It’s okay,” he promised, “I’m not going to come.”
“You better not!” Jane was now wanking herself in time with Clayton and he came close before letting go of himself. “I think,” she concluded, “that we need to continue this in your bedroom without any clothes on.” Jane undressed slowly making sure that Clayton watched her every move.
Clayton could only follow as Jane led him towards his bedroom. It was so like he had imagined. He almost couldn’t believe it was happening to him. But it was happening, even better than the time before.
In the morning he woke alone. He listened but could not hear any sounds in the house that suggested that Jane may still be there. He got up and wandered through the rooms, then back to the entrance. There was no lingerie, no trench coat. There was no Jane.
He found his phone on the lounge and texted her. Last night was sensational, he spelled out, hoping he didn’t say too much or too little.
A few minutes later, his phone pinged. Are you sure that msg was for me, she had replied. A few moments later she added: Let’s just leave it for a while, okay?
He texted back an Okay with what he hoped was an appropriately vague emoji. Then either he was dreaming or he heard a sound coming from his bedroom. He went back to see what it could be since it sounded like soft footsteps. Clayton tried to forget the frustration of their text exchange. He reached the bedroom. Jane stood naked, leaning against the door frame, smiling salaciously as only she could. He looked at her with confusion, but Jane ignored that and beckoned him towards his bed.
“It’s okay,” she mouthed, “it’s going to be good.”
Of course it was okay. It was good, very good.
I’ve entered this story in competition, so if you like it, please vote. That would be great, thank you. It would be good.
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