I've always kept things simple. I've tried to ask very few questions, take things as they come, and often let everything ride on serendipity. I hated “should
be” or “supposed
Questions often stopped things in their tracks.
Is it something to be proud of that Jenn was the only married woman that I personally knew that I ever caught myself fantasizing about?
What should I have said when she asked me if we could go to my apartment during lunch?
We were only supposed to have coffee, just like any other day over the past 3 years we'd been working in the same building. Sometimes we actually had a proper lunch; other times we'd go for a long walk.
Today was just supposed
to be coffee.
Why was she coming to my apartment then?
Why did she ask that I go first and she would arrive five minutes later?
Why did I think this was more than about coffee?
The questions just rattled on endlessly. It would have made me dizzy if not for a strange, swelling anticipation clearing my head. It suggested I keep those questions to myself, bury them deep and, above all, don't ask Jenn.
I entered my apartment; it was clean, fortunately. Christine was over the night before; she hated when my place was untidy.
I didn't have much to do as I waited. On a bookshelf, I fingered a picture frame, looking at the smiling couple embracing each other on some beach in some country. There was a knock on the door. I slipped the picture into a drawer.
Jenn usually had a calm but vibrant smile. It was one of her many attractive qualities. It was the same with the way she said “Hello”, a quick sample of her voice, gentle with an unexpectedly charming boyish lilt to it. Standing at my door, there was no smile, no “Hello” from her. She wasn't upset, though. What I sensed in her placid expression was angst; something I had rarely witnessed from her.
As I led her into my apartment, a flourish of moments, mostly only scant seconds long, flooded my memory: those connections when we talked, those slight glances towards each other that lingered maybe a bit too long, the extra tight squeezes when we hugged. Most of all, those times when we walked along the sidewalks, chatting, the backs of our hands brushing one another, thinking nothing of it at the time, but keeping them safe in my memory.
Jenn stood in the center of my living room, her back to me, rubbing her arm quietly. She'd never seemed so vulnerable.
“Can't believe I've never had you over before,” I said, “Living so close by to work. Sorry.”
“It's okay,” she said softly.
“Offer you a drink?”
She shook her head.
I should have asked her if something was wrong or if she wanted to talk. That's what I was supposed to do.
I kept my mouth shut.
“Flynn,” she said, still facing away, “Where's your bedroom?”
I nodded. “On your left.”
Without a word, she walked into my bedroom.
I hesitated. For some reason, I thought she might come back out eventually. She didn't.
A few seconds more and I finally followed her in.
Jenn was sitting at the edge of my bed. I stood by the door as I watched her. She was breathing deeply but otherwise she sat quietly looking down at her hands.
“It's very bright in here,” she said. The mid-afternoon sun came unfiltered through my windows, splashing the room with a white glow.
I went to the windows and drew the curtains. They couldn't block out all the light, but they did soothe it to a golden haze.
I turned around in time to see her slip something into the pocket of her skirt.
I walked over to Jenn and stood in front of her. She continued to look at her hands.
“Jenn,” I said. I broke my rule and asked, “What is it?”
Her eyes drifted as she turned her head aside. I could see her breathing through her mouth, audible wisps of air slipping through. Her lips suddenly drew to a tight line and she looked up at me. Slowly she stood up from the bed.
We faced each other, inches apart, only the air of silence between us. Her dark eyes fixed onto mine as she unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. I didn't shift my eyes away from her face which was saying something considering how often they had lingered on Jenn's provocative legs in the past. I didn't flinch when I felt her fingers open my belt nor did I look away as I heard the zipper of my slacks come undone. They fell to my ankles and I shunted them aside along with my socks. Our breaths intensified as we undid the buttons of each others' tops, the dull “pop” of each a pleasing sound to my heightened senses.
We were both in our underwear as we embraced and shared out first kiss, a soft peck; Jenn had her eyes closed. We circled our lips gently --I felt hers tremble-- slowly bringing them together until we were locked in a deep kiss.
I held her close, melding our bodies together. Jenn raised herself onto her toes as I clutched her. Her bare flesh had its effect on me; I was soon nudging her lower belly with my swollen desire. She opened her eyes and lay back down on the bed, pulling me with her.
Lying together on the soft sheets seemed to spur us on. This was really happening. We would let it happen.
Hands worked quickly to strip each other of our underwear and just as quickly they were exploring the nude bodies revealed to them. As we continued to kiss, I rolled onto my back, pulling Jenn on top of me. Her wavy dark hair fell around our faces as we kissed, and I was intoxicated by her sweet scent.
Hands on her firm buttocks, I pushed her up and hungrily sucked on her small but lovely breasts, circling my tongue around her dark nipples. She tasted so good.
Jenn's eyes closed once more. She chewed her upper lip as she propped herself up and reached down to handle me, holding her breath as she moved my tip into position. The gasp she sighed as she settled herself onto me nearly made me climax right then.
Our hips gently swaying in unison, I moved in out of Jenn with delicate yet satisfying thrusts. I slid one hand around her trim waist and round butt, the other up to her breasts, massaging and teasing her nipples to stiff attention; then up to her face, caressing her chin, my thumb slipping into her open mouth. On the outside, she was a sexy, sensuous woman; within, she was a delicious combination of tight and soft. Her natural warmth emanated from the inside out.
The look on her face intensified. I watched her stomach tighten and roll more vigorously; I felt her clench and pulse around my stiff shaft.
Her moans were unhindered now, incessant. They whispered their wanton notions into my skull and with a sudden burst, I grabbed Jenn and flipped her over onto the bed.
We were locked in a desperate clench. Lips pressed together, arms and hands holding on. Jenn pulled me in with her feet, lock them just below my butt. I obliged with long undulating strokes, each thrust deep and true. Our impassioned moans and gasps and the steady creak of the bed filled the room as we crested.
Jenn suddenly threw her head back, breaking the kiss, and groaned lustily toward the ceiling. That was more than enough for me. I surged forward with one last potent thrust, rearing my head back. A shuddering moan escaped my mouth as my whole body shook. We covered and filled each other with an exquisite wet, warmth before collapsing into each others' arms.
In silence, Jenn lay beside me, stroking my chest with her fingers. After awhile, we got up and got dressed. She only spoke to ask that we leave and return to work five minutes apart.
As she opened the door, I said, “Jenn...your ring.”
She looked back at me, pausing for thought. I could see her pulling the ring out of her pocket as the door closed.
There were many questions I should have asked after that day, that I was supposed
to ask. For a few weeks after, I never had the chance. She avoided me completely. Would I have asked them if I had the chance? I doubt it.
Finally, one day we came across each other walking along the sidewalks during our breaks. We fell into step, walking side-by-side.
I felt the back of her hand brush against mine.
I said nothing.
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<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/wife-lovers/a-quiet-affair.aspx">A Quiet Affair</a>