The adrenaline burnt Matt’s tongue even before he had registered the scene, his fingers unconsciously gripping the steering wheel tighter, his breathing suddenly shallow. He knew the school Phoebe worked at was along that road, and he knew there was a chance he would see her, but he never thought it would actually happen.

But there she was.

He could tell she hadn’t seen him as he glanced in his rear view mirror - and neither had the man she was walking with - hand in hand.

For a moment, he thought the adrenaline was going to make him vomit right there in the footwell, his heart beating in his ears.

He hadn’t seen Phoebe since they’d broken up six months ago.

Had they broken up, or had he pushed her away until she left?

He’d felt a level of guilt, especially since she’d given up her job in the next town, and found another school in his city so they could be closer together, to be a proper couple, to move in together.

Neither of them had ever lived with anyone, but he’d known she was ready. But he’d also known that he wasn’t.

In the last six months, there had been times when he’d thought about her, even thought about calling her but he’d always stopped himself, unsure if that was what he wanted, and as time went on he worried about being rejected. But now, in this moment, driving through the quiet suburb, he suddenly felt an overwhelming sensation of regret, of sadness. Loss.

He had rounded a bend in the road and could no longer see Phoebe or her - boyfriend? Was that what he was? He didn’t care, he just knew he had to get back, to talk to her. Behind him, two cars pulled out of a side road, and there were cars approaching on the other side, preventing him from turning around, so he knew he had to get to the roundabout at the end of the road. But would that be too far? Would he be too late? Would she have already disappeared, leaving her oblivious to the fact that he had seen her, that he was there, that he was suddenly regretting the last six months?

His mouth dried as his heart rate increased and he sped up. As he approached the roundabout, he could see it was clear to his right and he pressed on the accelerator, leaning with the car as it rounded the grass circle, catching up to the cars in front and slowing down.

What was he going to say to her? Always supposing she was still there. Would there be a confrontation with the guy? Would she even speak to him? She’d been so upset when they’d broken up, when he’d pushed her away, even turning up at his door telling him that he could have her back right then if he wanted. But he’d rejected her - not nastily, but enough for her to know it was over. And now he regretted every moment.

Before he’d seen her, he hadn’t been thinking about her, but now he was desperate to see her again. Was it because of the guy? He didn’t think so; he knew that even if she’d been alone, he’d still be driving back to find her.

As his car rounded the bend in the other direction, Matt felt his heartbeat rise, and his breath caught in his throat when the pavement outside the school was empty. Maybe it’s a sign. Perhaps the theory that the universe decides when you have come to the end of your relationship with someone, and no matter how close you live to them, you’ll never see them again was true. He felt a lump in his throat, and he eased off the accelerator. And then he saw her, her mass of dark hair a compliment to her dark red skirt and suit jacket. She was still with the other man, they were holding hands and she was laughing - just like she used to with him. Without thinking, he swung his car into the next side road, swinging it around and driving back the way he’d come, slowing up next to them.

The window whirred as it descended, and it took a moment for them to realise he was there. When they did, the man looked at him, a mixture of caution and politeness on his face. But it wasn’t him Matt was looking at. For a few seconds, Phoebe looked in his direction, and her smile faded in recognition.

‘Matt?’ she said, confusion, concern and something else crossing her face. Anger?

‘Hi Phoeb,’ he replied, ignoring her companion. ‘Do you have a second?’

At his question, the anger seemed to leave her face, but she didn’t smile.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, and he wondered if he’d heard a hint of hopefulness in her voice, but he couldn’t be sure.

‘I just wondered if I could talk to you.’

She paused, and he noticed that she had dropped her boyfriend’s hand - not in haste like she was trying to hide, but just letting it go.

‘What do you want to talk to her about?’ the boyfriend said, but Phoebe put her hand on his shoulder.

‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘We know each other.’

Matt looked up at him, waiting for the start of a confrontation, but what he saw was realization; not fear that he was a threat to his relationship, but just that he knew who he was. Phoebe had obviously talked about him, about them - probably telling him how he’d pushed her away and let her go, and that was why she was single and talking to him in a bar or at a party.

‘Phoeb?’ Matt said.

She looked at her boyfriend. ‘Just give me a minute,’ she said, smiling reassuringly and touching his arm. Matt felt his stomach twist.

‘Could you wait for me back at the gates?’ she said, her panic and confusion being held behind a weak barrier. He nodded, glaring at Matt before he walked slowly away.

Phoebe watched him go and then bent to look in the car window.

‘What do you want, Matthew?’ she asked, the use of his full name making him realise she was still angry, still upset, still hurt.

‘Do you want to get in?’ he asked.

‘I don’t think that would be good,’ she replied, glancing at the back of her boyfriend as he walked along the pavement.

‘Do you mind if I get out then?’

She glanced up the road again. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea either.’

‘I’m not worried about him coming back,’ he said.

Phoebe half-smiled. ‘I know you’re not. What do you want?’

‘You.’

Her bright blue/grey eyes, a contrast to her hair, blinked rapidly, and Matt thought she was going to walk away. But she didn’t, she held his gaze, just as she had at a party they were both at before they were together, where he’d looked over at her only to see she was already looking at him. She’d held his gaze for a heartbeat and then looked back to her sister as if nothing had happened. She’d later told him that was how she flirted, that she’d liked him but couldn’t tell him.

And then the moment was over, and a flash of annoyance crossed her face. Not anger, he noticed, just irritation, which he felt was worse. If she was angry, then that could be the start of something, but irritation wasn’t a start of anything.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I made a mistake,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have let you go.’

‘I agree,’ Phoebe replied. ‘But you did, didn’t you?’

He nodded. ‘And I was so stupid to do that, and I’m sorry.’

She held his gaze. ‘How long has it taken you to realise this?’ she asked, but he knew that she was fully aware of the passing of time.

‘It’s been six months,’ he replied.

‘And you’re only telling me this now?’ She shook her head. ‘Why didn’t you say this three months ago? When I was single?’

The words cut into him, and he felt sick again. Had he really lost her? Had he missed her by, what, twelve weeks?

‘I know,’ he said, fighting to keep his voice steady. ‘Phoeb, I’m so sorry. I should have come to find you before. No, I shouldn’t have let you go in the first place.’

‘And why did you? You never said.’

‘Because I was stupid.’

‘No!’ Her voice wasn’t raised, but the venom was clear. ‘You don’t get to say that. That is not an answer. I want to know why. You broke my heart. I cried for weeks. And now you’re here saying this, when I’ve stopped crying, when I’m with someone who does know what he wants.’ She took a breath. ‘So you don’t get to use a stock phrase and think that that is an answer.’

Matt held up his hands in surrender. He hated that she was angry with him. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. But I don’t know why I did it. But I just know that I was wrong, and I miss you and I,’ he faltered, and she looked at him. ‘And I still love you.’

And in that moment, there was a flash of something softer that crossed her pretty face but left again as quickly.

‘I, I -,’ she faltered, and he hoped she was going to say she loved him too. But she wasn’t going to, she wasn’t going to make it easy for him, she might not give him anything. ‘I, I don’t know if you ever loved me.’

‘Phoebe,’ he said, fighting not to plead with her. ‘I did. I loved you, and I still do.’

She stared at him, wanting something more.

‘I love you so much,’ he said. ‘I miss your face, I miss holding your hand. I miss kissing you.’ He saw her eyes flutter and he took a plunge. ‘I miss your body.’ Her cheeks flushed. ‘I miss holding you. I miss making love to you. Phoeb, I miss everything about you, and I’m so sad that I don’t have you. I miss when we went to the beach that night and swam in our underwear because we didn’t have swimming costumes. I miss that I can’t watch you dance anymore, that we can’t go on holiday together anymore.’

She looked at him. ‘Why now?’

‘I wanted to find you before, but I was scared that you wouldn’t want me.’

‘If you had done that back then, then I wouldn’t have rejected you. I would have come back. But it’s too late. It’s been six months. I’ve met someone.’

He was about to plead with her, but he stopped. What was the point. He looked down.

‘I don’t remember you being scared of anything,’ she said finally, her voice less venomous.

‘I was scared of that.’

He looked back at her, and her face softened. ‘Do you remember when we went on that ghost walk, and I was scared the whole time?’ she asked.

He smiled, nodding and her smile gave him hope.

But then her smile faded. ‘No!’ she said. ‘You hurt me so much. I cried so much over you. How do I know you won’t do it again?’

‘Because I understand what I lost, Phoeb. I know how it feels to be without you and I don’t want to feel like this anymore.’

She closed her eyes in exasperation and frustration. ‘But I’m with Dave now.’

‘I know you are,’ he said softly. ‘And if you tell me there’s no hope for us and I should go then I will but -.’ He didn’t know what to say next, and she looked at him. ‘Should I go?’

Her silence seemed to last an eternity.‘No,’ she said, her voice little more than a whisper. But then she caught herself. ‘I mean.’ But she couldn’t finish her thought.

‘Phoebe, please. I just want another chance to show you how much I love you.’

‘But how do I know you won’t do it again?’

He looked at her. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘You’re right, I can’t prove that in any other way than by just not doing it. I’m sorry for what I did. But I promise I won’t ever do it again. And I know that if you tell me you don’t want me back, I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting what I did.’ He paused. ‘I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting it anyway because I’ve already lost six months of being with you.’

Phoebe’s eyes appeared to shrink wrap. ‘Why couldn’t you have said this before?’

He shook his head, not knowing what to say anymore. Phoebe glanced up the road to where Dave was standing.

‘Please,’ he said softly. ‘I love you. I need you.’ He paused. ‘You’re the love of my life.’

Her eyes fluttered at his words, but her face was still hard. Then suddenly she was standing up, turning, walking back along the road.

Matt felt beads of perspiration form on his forehead and he watched her in his wing mirror. Was she coming back? Or was she just going back to Dave?

And then an intrusive thought washed over him. Do I really want her, or was this just a challenge to see if I could get her back? No! You fucking moron! Why do you do this? You love her. You miss her and you’d better fucking hope she comes back because otherwise what are you going to do?

‘What’s going on?’ Dave asked as Phoebe reached him, irritation and fear in his voice.

‘That was my ex,’ she replied.

‘I gathered that,’ he said. ‘What did he want?’

She looked up at him. She hadn’t wanted him when he came up to her in the bar; she still wasn’t over Matt. But he’d seen her there again the next weekend, and the weekend after that, and eventually she gave him her number. He’d been patient with her, letting her push him away and then let him in, all the while hoping that Matt would come back and say all the things he was saying now. Now that it was too late. But she gave up on that and relaxed into her new relationship.

Dave touched her arm, bringing her out of her thoughts.

The steering wheel made a squeak and Matt realised he was gripping it tighter. He could see Phoebe in his mirror and he wished he could hear what she was saying. Or maybe it was better that he couldn’t. Should he get out and walk up to her? No, that would make him look aggressive and would upset her. He had to leave her, let her make her decision. He saw her touch Dave’s arm and his heart sank. His hand went to the keys hanging in the ignition.

‘He wants me back.’

‘But he hurt you,’ Dave said incredulously. ‘You said he made you cry.’

Phoebe nodded. ‘He did,’ she said softly. ‘But he’s saying all the right things.’

‘Yeah, and how long will that last?’ Dave snapped, looking down the street at the car.

‘You’re right,’ she said, touching his arm, looking up at him. ‘You’re right. ‘But I have to find out. I’m sorry.’

Matt’s fingers tightened on his keys as he saw Phoebe touch Dave’s arm, then he saw her turn, walking back down the road, Dave watching her.

He leaned over towards the window again, and he could hear her shoes on the pavement. She reached his car and looked in at him.

‘Are you sure about this?’ she asked, her hands on the door, her slender fingers gripping it.

Matt looked at her and, for a moment, all the reasons he’d pushed her away before flooded back. But this time they were all wrong, like trying to fit the pieces of a jigsaw into the wrong puzzle, and he knew he was right. ‘I’m completely sure.’

Phoebe looked at him and then glanced back up the road towards Dave who was standing, staring down at her. And then she was letting go of the door, pulling the handle and slipping into the car. He reached over to touch her hand, but she pulled it away.

‘Don’t make me regret this,’ she said, her eyes fixed out the windscreen.

‘I won’t,’ he replied softly.

She finally turned to look at him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, but she shook her head.

‘No,’ she said. ‘No more apologies. Just make me happy, and I’ll try to do the same thing for you.’

‘You always made me happy,’ he replied.

‘You had a funny way of showing it.’

‘I know. And I know you said no more apologies, but I am sorry, and I’ll never do it again. I promise.’

She looked at him and finally smiled. ‘Where are we going?’

‘My place?’ he said. ‘I’ll make you a cup of tea?’

‘So you haven’t forgotten how much I like tea in the last six months then?’

He shook his head with a smile. ‘Can I ask an question?’

Phoebe nodded.

‘Do you have any idea how long you’ll be angry at me?’

She shrugged. ‘No. I’ve cried a lot since we broke up, and it was your fault, so it might last a while.’

‘Can I kiss you?’ Matt asked.

She didn’t look at him. ‘I’ll let the quality of the tea decide that.’

Matt stifled a smile, glancing over at her as he started the engine, taking in her pretty profile he hadn’t seen in half a year. As his eyes dropped, he glimpsed a nude coloured stocking top just below the hem of her skirt. Phoebe had always liked nice underwear; she’d told him stories about putting on stockings and suspenders instead of tights when she was getting ready in the morning, catching sight of her reflection and feeling turned on. And she’d told him how she was walking to work one morning, not realising her backpack had caught her summer dress, and she’d been walking down the street with her lingerie showing, until a lady had crossed the road to tell her. Matt felt arousal mix with his love for her and relief, and he was about to mention her underwear like used to before, but he knew it was too soon. He didn’t want her to think he only wanted her back because he was horny.

Indicating her pulled away, glancing back to her, his heart dropping when he realised she was looking in his wing mirror at Dave who was still standing on the pavement.

The drive back to Matt’s flat was quiet, and their conversation didn’t flow as well as it used to, but he knew that was to be expected.

He turned the key in the door and let Phoebe walk in first. His studio flat was small and tidy, and he’d left the window open all day so it was cool despite the warm sun.

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ he said, heading to the small kitchen off the living room.

Phoebe looked around. In six months the flat had changed very little but she found herself scanning the room for signs of another woman having been there. Had Matt been seeing someone else in their time apart? It was a question she had asked herself when they’d first broken up, but the question had dissipated when she’d met Dave, although she had still found herself thinking about him in her quiet moments, pushing the memories from her mind when she realised.

Seeing nothing that indicated there had been another female there, she turned, about to sit on his bed as she had always done before. But she stopped, moving to the couch in front of the window.

From the kitchen, Matt saw the movement and his heart dropped, sad that she no longer felt comfortable enough to sit on his bed. The kettle clicked, and he poured the water into the two mugs, stirring and removing the tea bags before walking back into the living area. Passing the mug to her, he sat down.

‘Is that okay?’

She peered into it. ‘It’ll do.’ She took a sip, a smile forming at the edges of her mouth.

‘Does that mean I can kiss you now?’

She looked at him and nodded slowly.

Matt leaned closer.

‘I’m still holding my tea,’ she said quietly, her heart rate increasing. She loved him and she hated him; hated him for all her tears and sleepless nights. She wanted to kiss him but she was scared that her heart would get broken again. He gently took her mug, feeling the burn on his fingers as he put it on the floor, leaning closer again. She could smell his familiar scent, his skin, his aftershave.

Her stomach somersaulted, and she had to stifle a sigh as their lips touched for the first time in six months. His kiss was different from Dave’s. The first time she’d kissed Dave, she’d had to excuse herself to go to the bathroom. She was sure that he had thought it was because he was a good kisser, but in reality, it was to hide her tears at it not being Matt she was kissing. And the irony was that she wanted to tell Matt that, but couldn’t because he wasn’t there to tell and had he been, there wouldn’t have been a story to tell. Maybe she would tell him one day; when she felt safe again -  if she ever did.

The touch of his hand on her leg made her eyes open and she pulled away from their kiss, but not too far, their foreheads almost touching. ‘You said kiss, not touch,’ she whispered, fighting the urge to ask him to touch her all over.

‘Sorry,’ he said, removing his hand and this time she kissed him, not passionately, but in a way that she knew would tell him that her walls were coming down.

‘I don’t want my tea to get cold,’ she said, pulling away again, and he smiled.

‘I don’t want mine anymore,’ he said, leaning back onto the couch, watching as she leant forward and picked up her cup. She held it in both hands as though she were cold despite the sun pouring through the window onto them, warming the room.

Matt ran his fingers down her spine like he knew she enjoyed. She didn’t respond but just the feel of her bra clasp beneath her jacket made him harder.

‘Come back,’ he whispered. Phoebe turned to look at him, the sad look on his face making her heart melt, but she just held up her mug to show that she wasn’t finished with her tea. He smiled, running his fingers down her back again to the top of her skirt and back up to her neck. She shrugged her shoulders, fighting the urge to sigh at the sensation. Dave had never touched her neck like Matt did, but she’d never told him she liked it like she had with him; never told him that it turned her on, made her nipples hard, made her wet.

She tilted her cup, finishing her tea, reaching over to put the mug on the small table. As she bent forward Matt’s eyes dropped to her bottom. He’d always loved her bum. She wasn’t really a thong girl but her bum always looked tight and smooth and he’d always enjoyed giving it gentle nips which illicited moans from her which turned into yelps as he got harder and they would both collapse into laughter, her chastising him for biting her.

The sound of her clearing her throat brought him out of his memory and he realized he’d been caught. She looked at him disapprovingly, a look she didn’t entirely feel. She sat back down but wouldn’t make eye contact with him.

‘Can I have another kiss?’ he asked.

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, instantly chastising herself for leaning in, for not making him come to her. Feeling her move closer to him made his stomach flip, feeling as though she may be finally forgiving him. He opened his mouth to touch her lips with his tongue, but stopped at her gentle tap on his cheek. She wasn’t there yet, but he still touched the back of her neck again, and this time she didn’t stop him.

‘Where is your hand going?’ she asked, their lips still touching.

‘This one?’ he said, tapping his fingers on the back of her neck.

‘No,’ she replied, patting his other hand on her thigh. ‘This one.’

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Force of habit. And I like touching your stocking tops.’

‘How do you know I’m wearing stockings?’

She felt the grin on his lips against hers. ‘Because I saw them in the car.’

‘Your car,’ she said. ‘It was only the car when I was your girlfriend, and you were my boyfriend.’

‘Am I not your boyfriend?’

She pulled away to look at him. ‘Are you joking?’ she asked incredulously. ‘You broke my heart. You tore it apart and you think that one kiss on your couch and I’m your girlfriend again?’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. He knew that people would say that she should just get over it and move on, but he agreed with her. He knew what he’d done, and even though he hadn’t pursued her, that their meeting today was by chance, serendipity, he knew now that this was it, forever. That he would never let her go again.

She nodded, starting to feel that perhaps he was sorry. She was still scared but she didn’t want to ruin their afternoon.

‘You know what this means, don’t you?’ she said, a glint in her eye.

‘No. What?’

‘Well, if you’re not my boyfriend, then I must be a tart who kisses strange men.’

He laughed and a smile spread over her face, which disappeared when he pulled her gently back in for another kiss, his hand moving back to her thigh. Again, she pushed his hand away. ‘I’m still not sure if you can touch me,’ she said, but she was finding it difficult to still be angry at him. ‘I might kiss strange men, but I’m not sure if I’ll let them touch me.’

‘But you’re so pretty and so sexy,’ Matt said with a grin. ‘It’s hard not to touch you.’

She was about to make another comment about him not feeling that way six months ago, but she didn’t want to push him so that he started to pull away. This time, he didn’t remove his hand, trailing his fingers over the lace stocking top. ‘And you always wear such sexy underwear.’

Phoebe looked sad. ‘But you may not want to see this set.’

‘Why?’

‘Why do you think?’

‘I don’t know,’ he replied, confused.

She took a breath. ‘Because I wore it to work, because I was planning on having sex when I finished.’

For a moment, Matt took her words to mean that they were going to have sex, but then the realization dawned on him that she was talking about her and Dave.

Phoebe’s eyes tried to read his face. She knew he would never be angry or raise his voice with her, but she also knew that this could upset him. She didn’t want that, but she knew that she wanted him to know what he had pushed her to.

Matt felt lightheaded. He’d refused to let himself think about her being with another man, just pushing it from his mind. And until that moment he could have convinced himself that her and Dave had only just started dating and that they hadn’t gone that far, but now that safety net was gone. He’d known that she’d had boyfriends before him, but he’d never considered her having someone after him.

‘Don’t be angry,’ she said.

‘I’m not.’

‘You look it.’

He shook his head. ‘Just sad.’

‘I never wanted to be with anyone else,’ she said, pulling away slightly, but putting her hand on his chest. ‘I just never imagined that we would be together again.’

Matt was quiet for a moment. ‘Are we?’ he asked.

‘Are we what?’

‘Together again.’

She looked down. It was the first time since he’d pulled up beside her that afternoon that she’d allowed herself to think of him sexually, but now she could see the outline of his erection beneath his jeans. She’d loved his penis from the first time she’d seen it - not too big and a nice shape, and every time they’d made love, she’d felt satisfied and close to him.

‘I hope so,’ she whispered. She looked up at his face.

‘Me too,’ he replied.

For the second time that afternoon, Phoebe felt a smile spread over her face. She’d wanted to hurt him for what he’d done to her, but she also wanted to be close to him. She leaned forward to kiss him, giggling against his lips as she felt him grab her bottom and pull her over so that she was straddling him, both her stocking tops now clearly visible beneath her skirt. Breaking their kiss, she looked down at him. ‘Okay, now you can touch me.’

Matt smiled up at her, the smile that had made her stomach flip, and her legs feel a little weak since the first time she’d met him. She sighed as his hands slid up her thighs, pushing her skirt higher, exposing her suspenders, until he could see a hint of the matching knickers.

He looked up at her. ‘Does your bra match too?’ But he knew it would. It always did. That was one of the things about her that made her so sexy, that she always wore nice, matching underwear.

She squinted one eye as if she was looking at the sun. ‘Maybe.’

Matt reached for her jacket, easing it off her shoulders. At first, she didn’t move her arms, but when he stopped, she relaxed, blinking slowly at him. He smiled and eased the jacket down her arms. Beneath her white blouse, he could see the lace of her bra, confirming that she was wearing a matching set, and he trailed his fingers over her breasts. Phoebe sighed and her eyes fluttered at his touch.

He could feel the firmness of her nipple beneath her blouse, and he carefully teased it, causing her breath to catch in her throat.

The turmoil she’d been feeling since Matt’s arrival was still present. She didn’t want him to stop but she was afraid of going too far, of falling again, of getting hurt again. But she wanted him, just like she always had. His fingers were sending shocks through her nipples, and she knew she was getting wet. Between her legs, she could see his erection trapped beneath his jeans. She wanted it, she wanted to see it again, to hold it, to feel it. But she didn’t know how to act.

Suddenly, his fingers were moving to the buttons of her blouse and for a moment she panicked. Should she stop him? But she needed to feel more.

Watching her face Matt carefully pulled at the small buttons, working his way down until he could see her bra, her nipples, pink and hard beneath.

As he popped the last button her blouse fell open, revealing her flat stomach and firm breasts. She’d always loved the way he played with her breasts, and she relaxed her arms as he pushed the blouse off her shoulders, but suddenly she felt self-conscious sitting in front of him in just her skirt and bra, feeling his eyes on her flesh. Her cheeks tinged pink under his soft gaze and she leaned forward to kiss him, to ease her embarrassment as much as to feel his lips on hers again.

‘I want you, Phoebe,’ he whispered as their lips parted. She sat back, looking into his eyes, searching for confirmation that he was being truthful, and in that moment, she saw the man she’d fallen in love with. She nodded, and for the first time, she reached down to feel his erection, watching as her fingers trailed over his hard shaft beneath his jeans.

Feeling her fingers on him, Matt pulled her close, kissing her again, leaning forward to stand up. Instinctively, Phoebe put her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist as she had done so many times before, allowing herself to be lifted, his hands on her bottom.

Despite her nervousness, she giggled as he swept her up, turning to his bed, gently laying her down. Matt leaned forward, kissing her again, and she kissed him back, her arms still wrapped around him. As their tongues explored each other's mouths, he gently slid her bra strap off one shoulder and then the other, pulling slowly until her breasts were exposed.

Simultaneously, Phoebe felt exposed and self-conscious, but relaxed as she always had with him, letting him kiss down her neck, over her shoulders and down over her breasts until she gasped as he took her nipple between his lips, sucking and teasing with his tongue, making her back arch.

In the past she’d joked that men couldn’t multitask but that he could remove different items of her clothing at the same time; those happy moments coming back to her as she felt him reach under her back to unclasp her bra, dropping it on the floor as his free hand unzipped her skirt, all the while his mouth still playing over her breasts.

She quickly kicked off her shoes as she watched him kneel up and slide her skirt down over her slim thighs, leaving her lying on his bed in just a pair of white lacy knickers and her stockings and suspenders.

Matt looked at her, taking in her pretty face and slim, tight body, wondering why he’d ever let her go. He could feel his erection pressing against his jeans.

‘Can I take off your knickers?’ he asked.

She nodded, her heart racing as though it were their first time again.

He was used to her wearing stockings and suspenders, and he reached to unhook them so he could remove her underwear, but she stopped him.

‘You don’t need to undo them,’ she said. ‘I put my knickers on over the suspenders.’

He was about to ask her why when it occurred to him that it had been planned but that it was Dave who was supposed to be making love to her while she wore her stockings.

She saw the realization on his face. ‘Sorry,’ she said.

He smiled at her and gave a brief shake of his head, not expecting or needing an apology from her. He reached for her underwear, but she reached for him. ‘Come here,’ she said, pulling at his belt. He moved closer, watching as she released the buckle, her fingers finding the button on his jeans and then the zip. Phoebe watched as his jeans opened, his hard-on, still beneath his boxers, pushing out through the gap. She ran her fingers over the material, feeling his hardness beneath. He sighed at her touch.

‘Take them off,’ she said, sitting up, feeling more confident, more relaxed in front of him now. She pulled at his jeans until she couldn’t get them down any further. Matt stood up, pulling them down the rest of the way, kicking them off along with his socks, pulling his t-shirt over his head. He knelt back on the bed, and she opened her legs so that he was knelt between them, his mouth dropping to hers and then back to her breasts. She put her fingers inside the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down over his bottom, watching as his erection flexed. She carefully took him in her hand, feeling his warmth and hardness, sliding her hand down until his tip, shiny with pre-cum was exposed.

Matt groaned, his mouth still engulfing her breast. Releasing her nipple he knelt up, watching her hand on his erection and he reached for her underwear, sliding it down, revealing her smooth vagina, and he knew that she had waxed, not for him but for Dave. But it wasn’t Dave who was there with her, it wasn’t Dave who was tasting her flesh and who was going to make love to her. It was him and he knew that he never wanted to do this with anyone else ever again.

Phoebe lifted her toned legs as he slid her underwear down, and they both laughed when they got caught up on her ankles. But then he was dropping them on the bed and leaning forward again, but this time he was kissing her flat stomach and down towards her vagina.

For a moment, she felt flustered, knowing how wet she was going to be, almost stopping him. But she relaxed - he’d always made her wet, he was used to it. Letting her eyes close, she felt him position himself between her thighs, his hands sliding up to take her breasts, stroking her nipples as his mouth settled over her smooth lips, his tongue slipping inside her before licking up, freeing her clitoris.

Phoebe gasped at the sensation, saying his name involuntarily. Matt had always been so good at going down on her and she couldn’t deny that it had been frustrating when Dave had tried but hadn’t been able to make her orgasm. But now Matt was back there and his tongue was lapping over her clit as his fingers pulled and teased her nipples. Her back arched and her head pressed into the pillow, and she was amazed that she could already feel her orgasm building. Her hands reached for the back of Matt’s head, her fingers tangling in his hair.

Lying between her stocking-covered thighs, Matt looked up over Phoebe’s stomach and between her breasts to her face, contorted by the sensation of him licking and sucking on her clitoris and her lips, the familiar scent of her filling his senses again after too long away. She whispered his name as her pants became moans and her moans became a cry as her body convulsed and she came. He knew that her orgasms could be intense and long, and he continued licking over her clitoris, drawing more pants and cries from her until she jerked, twisting her hips as his touch became too sensitive and she closed her legs around his head.

Releasing her nipples, Matt slid his tongue between her lips, tasting her wetness. He watched her face as she lay still, her head turned to the side, eyes closed, her neck flushed pink.

Phoebe could feel Matt between her legs as he softly licked between her lips. She wanted to feel him inside her but her head was still spinning and her thighs felt wobbly. Slowly she opened her eyes, looking down at him, a little embarrassed at how loud she’d been. They made eye contact, and she smiled. It had been too long since she had seen him from this angle.

‘Come up here,’ she whispered.

Slowly, Matt extracted himself from between her thighs, crawling up over her. He lowered his head to kiss her and she reached up, wiping her wetness from his mouth and chin.

‘Was that okay?’ he asked.

‘I think how shiny your chin is answers that question,’ she replied with a giggle. ‘But yes, it was amazing. Like it always was.’

‘And will always be,’ he said, leaning down to kiss her.

‘Make love to me,’ she responded, her hand finding his erection.

He repositioned himself as she lifted her legs around his waist, guiding him to her opening. She had missed how he felt inside her. It wasn’t that Dave was too small or too big but it just hadn’t felt the same, not as right. She felt his tip at her lips, and she let go of his hard shaft, putting her arms around his neck, squeezing with her legs, pulling him into her.

They both gasped as he slid into her, her arousal making it easy for him to slip inside. Matt felt his balls tighten. Despite it being him who had broken up their relationship he hadn’t been with anyone else, and this was the first time in more than six months he’d felt this sensation. But he didn’t want to finish too soon. He wanted it to last for both of them. He knew that Phoebe could usually cum more than once, and he wanted to see and hear her again.

The sun was warm on their skin as he thrust slowly inside her, listening for her moans to know he was getting it right.

Underneath him, she was relaxing, the feel of him hard inside her as she held him with her thighs, her ankles crossed around his buttocks. She could hear his pants as he thrust into her and she looked up at him. Matt was already looking down at her, then tilting his head to watch himself sliding into her. She knew he’d always liked to watch, and she looked down too, seeing his hard shaft glistening with her wetness each time he pulled out. She could see from his face that he was lost in the sensation, and she squeezed her muscles around his hard-on.

He gasped at the feeling. ‘Fuck,’ he groaned. ‘Don’t do that.’

‘Why?’ she asked with a giggle.

‘Because you’ll make me cum.’

‘I want you to cum. I want you to cum inside me.’

‘So do I, but I don’t want to finish yet.’

‘It’s okay,’ she said softly. ‘We have all afternoon and all night. I take it I’m not going home tonight.’

‘No, you’re not,’ he replied, kissing her.

‘Then cum in me.’

But he shook his head. ‘Not yet. I want you to cum again first.’

She smiled up at him. ‘Then let me ride you.’

She had never been able to orgasm just from having sex. For her, it was all about her clitoris, but having sex at the same time, being filled, made her orgasms even better.

Matt carefully pulled out of her, glad that the sensation of getting close to cumming was dissipating as he rolled onto his back. Phoebe followed him, straddling his thighs, lifting his hard on before lowering herself onto him. She moaned again as he filled her and Matt reached up for her breasts, cupping and holding them as he ran his fingers over her nipples. She whispered his name as she started to rock her hips on him, leaning forward, adjusting her position so that her clitoris pressed against him, digging her fingers into his firm chest.

Her clit was still sensitive from her earlier orgasm, and she knew it could go either way - either it would be too intense for her to cum again, or it would happen quickly. But as she felt the sensation from pressing against him, she knew she had another orgasm in her.

Matt looked up at her, her dark hair falling around her shoulders as she rocked her hips, and it reminded him of her dancing. She was the sexiest dancer he’d ever seen, and whenever they’d gone to a club he’d spent the evening watching her on the dance floor.

Phoebe could feel her orgasm building again, and she pressed harder onto him, her mouth falling open as she gasped.

‘Tell me,’ he whispered.

Before she’d met him, she hadn’t been very talkative during sex, but when he’d asked her to tell him when she was going to cum she’d found that it excited her knowing how turned on it made him.

‘Yes,’ she breathed as the sensation built. ‘Yesss, Matt.’

He watched as her face was bathed in ecstasy as her second orgasm approached. ‘Yes! I’m cumming!’ Her words turned to moans as her climax flooded through her, the sensation enhanced by being filled by him, and she gasped again as she rode out her orgasm.

She fell forward, onto him, breathless, and she could feel herself contracting around his shaft. ‘Did you cum?’ she asked, her face pressed into his neck.

‘Not yet,’ he replied.

‘Take me again.’

Matt quickly rolled over, and she held onto him, moving with him. The movement caused him to slide out of her slippery cleft, and she quickly grabbed him, guiding him back inside her. The sensation around his sensitive tip reignited the orgasm he had previously edged away from, and he pushed into her. Phoebe gasped as he filled her again, running her hands across his chest as he held himself up on his arms.

She watched his face contorting as he thrust over and over, and she knew he was close.

On top, Matt was looking down at her, holding contact with her pretty eyes, loving how they sparkled, looking for signs that she was still enjoying it, that he wasn’t hurting her. But she knew what he was doing, knew that he always wanted to be gentle with her. But she wanted him to be hard, to fill her, to fuck her.

‘Yes!’ she breathed, urging him on as the bed creaked. ‘Harder!’

The sensation around his hard on was building as he looked down, and for a moment she smiled up at him, a feeling of warmth and love washing over him. But he knew better than to tell her he loved her as he was cumming. She’d once told him that when a man said he loved someone as he came, he was really saying “I love you for letting me cum in you,” and so he’d never said it to her in that moment.

Watching his face, Phoebe squeezed her muscles as she had before and he groaned. ‘Fuck! Phoebe!’ As he said her name, he felt his balls tighten and he came, releasing into her.

She felt him orgasm and held him with her legs, watching his face as he pumped into her over and over, shooting inside her.

Matt looked down at her, his hips now only making small movements, barely moving inside her, but she could still feel him, hard and deep.

‘I love you,’ he whispered.

‘Lucky for you, you didn’t say that thirty seconds ago,’ she replied with a smile. ‘I love you too.’

He laughed before leaning down to kiss her. She held him tight until she felt his arms give way, and he lay on top of her. Although he was heavy on her petite frame, she liked the feel of him pressing onto her.

‘Am I squashing you?’ Matt asked.

‘I like it,’ she replied, and then she laughed. ‘But I am finding it hard to breathe now.’

Kissing her, he rolled to the side, pulling her close. She always found it strange to be lying there after sex, wearing lingerie. Almost like she was wearing a costume after a performance. She would feel less self-conscious if she were just naked, but she was too comfortable, too satisfied to be bothered with moving to take off her stockings and suspenders. So instead she snuggled in close, draping one stocking-covered leg over his thigh.

‘What do you want to do tonight?’ she asked, snuggling in to him,

‘You again,’ he replied.

She laughed. ‘I’m serious. What shall we do later.’

‘I’m serious too,’ he said. ‘But I thought we could get a takeaway and watch a movie.’

‘Mmm, sounds perfect,’ she replied sleepily as the sun played across her bare body. She looked up at him, and he looked down. ‘Never again?’ she said, her face serious.

‘No,’ Matt replied. ‘I promise. Never again.’ And in that moment, he knew that hers was the face he wanted to see for the rest of his life.