Sex stories

Short sex stories




River Ch. 06

For days I walked around filled with a potent, nervous energy. The main thing was to try to never sit still and to always have things to do. While at work that was usually quite easy, but at home I had to find increasingly more creative ways of keeping myself and my thoughts occupied. After taking several long walks, cleaning my apartment two times, cooking at least a month's worth of food and finally trying if cold showers could possibly work on women as well, Friday evening made it's somewhat unwanted appearance.

After keeping busy for days, I realized that trying not to think and feel was exhausting. Weekends are roughly 60 hours long and you use about 18-24 of those for sleeping (if you're a sleepyhead like me, probably a bit more). If most of those hours -- including the ones where you're asleep -- are filled with flash backs of previous meetings and fantasies about future meetings, then that makes you pretty exhausted too.

Whilst I was laughing over my ability to think about not thinking I cleaned my living room for the third time. I then forced myself to sit down in my sofa to decide what to do next. Nothing needed more cleaning; in fact, more cleaning would probably make me reach my neighbor's apartment soon. There was also nothing for me to pack or unpack, sort or unsort. There was no more room for food in either fridge or freezer.

And really, once you start thinking about taking all of your furniture apart, just to be able to put them back together again, that's a pretty good sign that you should take a break.

"Hey" I suddenly realized "there's always room for home improvement" and with a pen in my hand I spent the last hours of Friday evening happily planning what to do and writing lists with what material I would need. Come Saturday morning it would be time for some serious shopping!

- - - - - -

I woke up late on Saturday morning, since sleep had been interrupted by a lot of steaming hot dreaming. My body was warm, lazy and pleasantly aching, as if I had been up having sex half of the night. Considering the way my vivid dreams had woken me up, in a state of almost-there arousal, I guess that's not far from the truth.

Suffering from the female version of blue balls, I took a long shower and made good use of my massage shower head. Cleanliness is next to godliness after all, and I sure felt like a goddess drying off and getting dressed.

I drove my trusty but rusty old car to a nearby shopping center where I decided to have some breakfast before getting on with my shopping. With some tea and a sandwich I sat down by one of the still available tables next to the cashiers. I started sorting through my lists to see what to buy and where to go first.

I was interrupted by a soft "Hey there, can I join you?" and when I looked up (and up) there he was; John.

I'm not sure if you've ever noticed, but for some reason, when you've finally realized that you're falling in love, and you need some time to process that, you suddenly meet the person of your growing affections in the strangest places. It's like you're unconsciously making him appear just by thinking about him so much. And just like when you were a teenager, you go through several steps of shocked embarrassment, from stunned silence (looking like a gaping fish), through nervously giggling redness into some silly stuttered too loud exclamation.

"Hey!" I almost shouted and then continued on a bit lower "y-yes of course, please sit".

He was casually dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, and the fact that he looked even better than usual, made breathing seem impossible. Thankfully, my protection system against total embarrassment was activated and I didn't have to live through actually fainting from lack of oxygen. Somehow I managed to start thinking again, and with that came the natural question.

"Where's Sam?" I looked around but couldn't see him in the restaurant or the close by kids' corner.

John smiled and said "It's just me, Sam's with his grandparents today".

"Oh" was the only answer that came to me.

"You see, since Sam cannot have contact with his mother, I try to make sure that he meets her parents once in a while. Right now we've settled on him staying with them a full weekend every month. It makes for a perfect arrangement, they get to love and care for him, he gets to be with the grandparents that he absolutely adores and I get some much needed alone time".

I had so many questions to ask about Sam's mother and how he was handling everyday life, but I felt like it was not the time or the place for deeper discussions. With a shaking hand I took a sip of my tea and a bite of my sandwich, mostly to give myself some time to collect my thoughts.

I was so attracted to this man that my eyes were almost crossing from the instant sexual tension. I felt like a stranger in my own body and I just barely kept myself from reaching out and touching him. I've always been a tactile person, and at that point I couldn't stop thinking about how it would feel to just lightly put my hand on top of his. In the end I did just that, and was surprised by the shock wave of pure, concentrated desire that flowed through my body.

* * * * *

She was sitting right there by the counter, comfortably dressed in old blue jeans and a white t-shirt with a strange "you have to be realistic"-print on it. She looked a bit tired, but seeing her it was just like the last time we'd met; complete and instant attraction. She was concentrating on a couple of written notes and for half a second I thought about leaving without approaching her. At that same time, my feet were moving in her direction, and then I found my courage and my voice and started talking to her.

She seemed to not really know what to say, so I started talking about Sam and his grandparents and the way I had free weekends once every month; just trying to make her more comfortable. I could tell that her hand shook when she reached for her food. Did I scare her? Or was she, like me, affected by the buzzing energy that surrounded us?

I wanted to touch her, but was afraid that just one touch would make me want so much more. With this level of attraction and arousal, would I be able to stop if I started anything? And would I dare try? What if I got close to her and she turned out to be just another lying woman?

My confused thoughts about daring or not daring were interrupted by a small, soft hand suddenly reaching for and touching my hand. In that instant any thoughts about not trying quickly disappeared in wave of desire, too strong to deny. If being touched by her in such a simple way gave this effect, how would I possibly be able to take things slowly, to make absolutely sure that she was good thing; that we would be a good thing together.

"I..." I started, interrupting myself to gather my thoughts. "Simply put, I want to get to know you better. I want to explore our obvious attraction, but I want to take it slow. Or, I mean, I don't want to take it slow, but I think I need to. Obviously, I have to think about protecting Sam, but I also want to protect myself."

"Ok" she answered, looking as dazed as I was feeling. "I know I want to get to know you. And we'll go as slowly as you want to". With a small smile she confessed "It might be difficult, but we'll try".

I turned my hand to be able to take a hold of hers. Standing up, I pulled her to her feet, around the table and into my arms. She was so soft, warm and wonderful. Pulling her closer I was sure she could feel my erection against her body and when I felt her tremble against me I realized that by the simple action of holding her close, I had already run miles away from the safe "let's go slowly"-road.

I'm not sure how I managed to pull away and walk away, but somehow I did. When I was sitting in my car a few minutes later, I realized I had no good way of contacting her. Our only way of meeting again was if my leaving or picking Sam up happened to coincide with her work hours. Perhaps that would make me able to take it slow after all?For days I walked around filled with a potent, nervous energy. The main thing was to try to never sit still and to always have things to do. While at work that was usually quite easy, but at home I had to find increasingly more creative ways of keeping myself and my thoughts occupied. After taking several long walks, cleaning my apartment two times, cooking at least a month's worth of food and finally trying if cold showers could possibly work on women as well, Friday evening made it's somewhat unwanted appearance.

After keeping busy for days, I realized that trying not to think and feel was exhausting. Weekends are roughly 60 hours long and you use about 18-24 of those for sleeping (if you're a sleepyhead like me, probably a bit more). If most of those hours -- including the ones where you're asleep -- are filled with flash backs of previous meetings and fantasies about future meetings, then that makes you pretty exhausted too.

Whilst I was laughing over my ability to think about not thinking I cleaned my living room for the third time. I then forced myself to sit down in my sofa to decide what to do next. Nothing needed more cleaning; in fact, more cleaning would probably make me reach my neighbor's apartment soon. There was also nothing for me to pack or unpack, sort or unsort. There was no more room for food in either fridge or freezer.

And really, once you start thinking about taking all of your furniture apart, just to be able to put them back together again, that's a pretty good sign that you should take a break.

"Hey" I suddenly realized "there's always room for home improvement" and with a pen in my hand I spent the last hours of Friday evening happily planning what to do and writing lists with what material I would need. Come Saturday morning it would be time for some serious shopping!

- - - - - -

I woke up late on Saturday morning, since sleep had been interrupted by a lot of steaming hot dreaming. My body was warm, lazy and pleasantly aching, as if I had been up having sex half of the night. Considering the way my vivid dreams had woken me up, in a state of almost-there arousal, I guess that's not far from the truth.

Suffering from the female version of blue balls, I took a long shower and made good use of my massage shower head. Cleanliness is next to godliness after all, and I sure felt like a goddess drying off and getting dressed.

I drove my trusty but rusty old car to a nearby shopping center where I decided to have some breakfast before getting on with my shopping. With some tea and a sandwich I sat down by one of the still available tables next to the cashiers. I started sorting through my lists to see what to buy and where to go first.

I was interrupted by a soft "Hey there, can I join you?" and when I looked up (and up) there he was; John.

I'm not sure if you've ever noticed, but for some reason, when you've finally realized that you're falling in love, and you need some time to process that, you suddenly meet the person of your growing affections in the strangest places. It's like you're unconsciously making him appear just by thinking about him so much. And just like when you were a teenager, you go through several steps of shocked embarrassment, from stunned silence (looking like a gaping fish), through nervously giggling redness into some silly stuttered too loud exclamation.

"Hey!" I almost shouted and then continued on a bit lower "y-yes of course, please sit".

He was casually dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, and the fact that he looked even better than usual, made breathing seem impossible. Thankfully, my protection system against total embarrassment was activated and I didn't have to live through actually fainting from lack of oxygen. Somehow I managed to start thinking again, and with that came the natural question.

"Where's Sam?" I looked around but couldn't see him in the restaurant or the close by kids' corner.

John smiled and said "It's just me, Sam's with his grandparents today".

"Oh" was the only answer that came to me.

"You see, since Sam cannot have contact with his mother, I try to make sure that he meets her parents once in a while. Right now we've settled on him staying with them a full weekend every month. It makes for a perfect arrangement, they get to love and care for him, he gets to be with the grandparents that he absolutely adores and I get some much needed alone time".

I had so many questions to ask about Sam's mother and how he was handling everyday life, but I felt like it was not the time or the place for deeper discussions. With a shaking hand I took a sip of my tea and a bite of my sandwich, mostly to give myself some time to collect my thoughts.

I was so attracted to this man that my eyes were almost crossing from the instant sexual tension. I felt like a stranger in my own body and I just barely kept myself from reaching out and touching him. I've always been a tactile person, and at that point I couldn't stop thinking about how it would feel to just lightly put my hand on top of his. In the end I did just that, and was surprised by the shock wave of pure, concentrated desire that flowed through my body.

* * * * *

She was sitting right there by the counter, comfortably dressed in old blue jeans and a white t-shirt with a strange "you have to be realistic"-print on it. She looked a bit tired, but seeing her it was just like the last time we'd met; complete and instant attraction. She was concentrating on a couple of written notes and for half a second I thought about leaving without approaching her. At that same time, my feet were moving in her direction, and then I found my courage and my voice and started talking to her.

She seemed to not really know what to say, so I started talking about Sam and his grandparents and the way I had free weekends once every month; just trying to make her more comfortable. I could tell that her hand shook when she reached for her food. Did I scare her? Or was she, like me, affected by the buzzing energy that surrounded us?

I wanted to touch her, but was afraid that just one touch would make me want so much more. With this level of attraction and arousal, would I be able to stop if I started anything? And would I dare try? What if I got close to her and she turned out to be just another lying woman?

My confused thoughts about daring or not daring were interrupted by a small, soft hand suddenly reaching for and touching my hand. In that instant any thoughts about not trying quickly disappeared in wave of desire, too strong to deny. If being touched by her in such a simple way gave this effect, how would I possibly be able to take things slowly, to make absolutely sure that she was good thing; that we would be a good thing together.

"I..." I started, interrupting myself to gather my thoughts. "Simply put, I want to get to know you better. I want to explore our obvious attraction, but I want to take it slow. Or, I mean, I don't want to take it slow, but I think I need to. Obviously, I have to think about protecting Sam, but I also want to protect myself."

"Ok" she answered, looking as dazed as I was feeling. "I know I want to get to know you. And we'll go as slowly as you want to". With a small smile she confessed "It might be difficult, but we'll try".

I turned my hand to be able to take a hold of hers. Standing up, I pulled her to her feet, around the table and into my arms. She was so soft, warm and wonderful. Pulling her closer I was sure she could feel my erection against her body and when I felt her tremble against me I realized that by the simple action of holding her close, I had already run miles away from the safe "let's go slowly"-road.

I'm not sure how I managed to pull away and walk away, but somehow I did. When I was sitting in my car a few minutes later, I realized I had no good way of contacting her. Our only way of meeting again was if my leaving or picking Sam up happened to coincide with her work hours. Perhaps that would make me able to take it slow after all?

river  

Apr 3, 2018 in romance

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