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The Last Time - Part One

Iris wants to say no to this married man...

Iris stretched across her bed, determined to finish the last few words in her journal before she completely passed out from the exhaustion her evil little kindergarten class had put her through earlier that day.

Dear Me,

I wonder when the next time I might see him will be. He always pops up so randomly when I least expect it, always dark and handsome. Watching him stand in my doorway, tie untangled, shirt unbuttoned, distraught at being at work all day playing the part of the good little husband he is all too good at playing, when he'd rather be with me wrapped in my arms and legs, inhaling my scent as if it would be the last breath he'd take...

Iris put down her pen. She hated thinking about him. She hated how as soon as the fantasies stopped, and she was able to stop thinking about him, he'd show up at her door step again, as if he was there to remind her of who he was and what they were. He was taunting her.

"Dammit, Iris, pull yourself together." She hastily rubbed her temples trying to get him out of her mind. "He's just a man." With that thought she turned out her light and got beneath the covers, falling asleep before her head even hit the pillow.

* * * * 

"Dammit, Ash, you are a grown ass man, why can't you just leave this woman alone? YOU. ARE. MARRIED. Supposedly happily married too, and yet you're sitting outside of this woman's house when you should be at home with your WIFE."

Ash sat outside Iris's apartment three hours after he'd seen her light go off signaling that she was going to bed. Knowing Iris as well as he did, he knew she was probably asleep seconds after that light went out, knowing how much the children she taught ran through her. They loved everything about her; his own daughter came home one day after school to tell him just how pretty her smile was.

"Daddy, Ms Iris has the most prettiest smile. She's always smiling and laughing." His daughter would often throw herself on him as if she was swooning. "She's the best teacher, Daddy. I wonder why she has no kids of her own, she'd be a great momma. Ha, Daddy we should set her up with one of your friends, and then she could have a whole bunch of babies."

He would cut off conversations like that with his child, she was often too much for him to handle. Each conversation he'd have with his daughter about Iris would end in her having babies of her own, having babies with a man who wasn't him. He slammed his fist down in frustration on the steering wheel.

"Pull yourself together, Ash." He was waiting for the day she'd say no to him and slam the door in his face, but she never did. He got out of the car and slowly walked up the steps to her apartment, the whole way having an argument with himself. One voice yelled that he was hurting his wife by being here, but the inside voice would always win over the other.

He really didn't give a damn.

He slammed his fist against the door three times to acknowledge his presence to the sleeping beauty on the other side.

* * * * 

Iris sat up in bed, drowsy, and counted the loud pounding.

One.

Two.

Three.

She slowly got out of bed and walked to the door. While chewing on her bottom lip she unlocked the deadbolt and pulled open the door...

* * * * 

She stood 5'3". He let his eyes take in her full profile. His eyes drifted to her hair that hung loosely and wildly down the middle of her back. The button down shirt she was wearing was open, revealing her cute, soft and freckled 36 C cupped breasts that were cradled in a see through lace bra.

His eyes lowered to her stomach, that cute soft stomach he loved to kiss so much, and the freckles that surrounded her belly button. He let his eyes linger on the spot right between her legs, the spot that woke him up and taunted him often throughout the night while he was sleeping next to his wife. He began studying her body again and his eyes moved down to the legs that he would soon have wrapped around him. He lifted his eyes to meet hers just in time to see her look away.

* * * * 

She memorized everything about him. His tall, 6'3" frame. His wild hair was stylishly messy. The tie around his neck that he'd often pull on when he was frustrated was completely undone. His forearms would flex in his shirt every time she felt his eyes linger on different parts of her body. His shirt was unbuttoned revealing his bare chest that she would often pound on when he was hitting the right spot.

She knew it was a risk but, she just had to see. She let her eyes drift down just below his belt and watched the bulge in his pants flex. She squeezed her thighs and forced herself to stop looking, trying to calm the pulsing ache of her sex.

* * * * 

"Iris," he said softly, "Turn around."




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