Jay and Diana

She was standing just around the corner as I exited the office tower, cigarette pinched lightly between her slender fingers as she lifted it to her mouth for a drag. The sweltering, sticky heat had pried a few stray hairs loose from her jaw-length ringlets; August had so far been the hottest and wettest month on record, and today was no exception.

"Hey," I called and waved as she lowered the smoke, "I thought you were quitting!"

"I've been trying," she said, "I only smoke when I'm really stressed now, it's been a week or so."

I slowed to a stop near a concrete post and looked at her. I had been intending just to pass by while I said my hellos, but I loved to bitch about work more than just about anyone in the office and wasn't about to give up the chance that had just fallen into my lap.

"So what's got you worked up now, then? Work's been a bit slower than usual at my end, I mean I just closed a couple of big files but nothing out of the ordinary... are you worried that not enough new stuff is coming in? I'm sure things will pick up by October, we're always busy right before Christmas..."

I was rambling and I knew it; I was trying to get her started. She always had better stories than I did, since she got to hear mine and everyone else's on the team when we turned in our quarterly reports. She wasn't rising to it this time, though; she took a couple more pulls on her cigarette while I trailed off, then tilted her head a little to the left and watched me patiently as I finally lapsed into silence.

"All right," I said. "Let me try again. What's on your mind?"

She smiled a little and crushed the butt under her right foot. "Things are a bit rough at home. My boyfriend and I are fighting about getting married again, and it's really driving us apart... I don't think we're going to make it past this fight, he's just so unwilling to talk about setting a date or getting a permanent place together." She wrapped her arms around herself, like she was cold, despite the thirty-degrees-Celsius temperature. "We haven't has sex in almost a month, we're barely talking except to fight, things are just terrible!"

She paused for a minute, looking shaken and cold. I shifted a little to lean against the post, sweating in the humidity, and opened my mouth to speak.

"Diana," was as far as I got before she cut me off.

"The sex is the worst part," she blurted. "You know how much I want to have, you know how often I want to have it, and he's just not what I want right now! He's being a jerk, I can't even be in the same room as him half the time!"

I did know how much she wanted sex. We talked a lot in the late hours after most of the rest of the crew had gone home, and when business was as slow as it had been the conversation inevitably got racy. I had been under the impression that she was leading a pretty exciting life, going home to a willing man almost every day and getting what she needed. Apparently, I had been wrong in my assumption.

"That sucks," I said. "I know it can be hard to be close to someone when you're fighting, but you should still be able to get what you need..."

"But I'm not!" she yelled. "I'm just not, and it's not fair!"

"I know it's not, Diana, but..."

"Jay," she interrupted me again, "I'm going to leave him. I can't take this, it's not fair for either of us and it happens too often."

"It sounds like you've thought this through then... is there anything I can do for you? Do you need somewhere to stay for a while while you get things sorted out?"

"Well..."

"Just let me know... I'll help you out however I can."

"Jay, do you remember what you said about me a couple of weeks ago? How you'd... you know?"

I thought for a second and realized what she might be talking about. We had been shooting the shit on the floor about office crushes and someone we worked with had taken the vibe too far, asking, "Jay, you'd fuck Diana, right?" The mood had gone tight; it was awkward for a second as everyone looked at her, then at Diana (who blushed furiously, her coffee-and-cream face darkening slightly), then at me. "Yeah," I'd said, "I'd hit it." The crowd around us had lost it, howling with laughter. Diana punched me on the arm the way girls do when they're amazed at how childish a man can be, and we all went back to work.

"You mean, would I 'hit it'?"

"I... yeah. Would you? I need to know that someone wants me before I'm single again."

"Wow."

"Is that a no? I knew I shouldn't have asked, this is just too stupid..."

"No, it's fine. It's surprising, but I'm really - really - okay with you asking that. So yeah, I would. Any time, anywhere."

"Okay, good. Great. Great! Can we go somewhere?"

"I... wow, wait, what? You really want to?" I had thought she just wanted some validation, someone to tell her she was good enough. I never would have thought that she actually wanted me.

"Yeah. Yes. I need someone tonight, and I'd rather you than anyone else around... maybe just for one night, though, okay? And then maybe never again, or maybe sometimes, but..."

"We'll see how it goes," I said.

"Okay, so... do you...?"

"Yeah, I have a place we can go. It just takes a minute by train, let's get going - I'm boiling out here."

The air conditioning was turned way up in the subway, which felt great on my face and neck but apparently made her cold. Her arms, left uncovered by her black top, prickled with goose bumps in the steady breeze from an overhead vent. We took seats close to the door, and she leaned into me a bit. I wrapped my arms around her, rubbing my hands briskly on her arms to warm her up a bit. I noticed that she smelled like cigarettes, cloves, and cinnamon - spicy, but not overwhelming. The smoke was even alluring after some of it had been blown off by the A/C.

After I got her warmed up, I turned in my seat so we were face to face. She looked nervous - not exactly scared, but not really comfortable, either. I brushed a line of curls behind her ear and let the back of my fingers trail over her cheek and down the side of her neck before pulling my hand back.

"Are you sure you want this?" I asked. "Are you okay?"

"I'm nervous. I've been with him a long time, this is hard."

"I know. You don't have to come with me, this is your choice... if you want to leave, I'll take you home and see you at work next week."

"No, I want to... I just need you to be nice to me, it's been a long time since I was with someone new."

"I understand. I can be nice, I promise - I'm not always like you see me at work, you know." I grinned, and she finally smiled a genuine smile. I felt some tension lift just as the train doors opened at our stop. I took her hand and led her onto the platform.

My apartment is on the fourteenth floor of a 1980s apartment building. There's only one elevator, so even late at night it can take a while to make it all the way up the shaft. Diana held my hand lightly the whole ride up, making small talk about the heat. When we finally arrived, she stepped cautiously off the elevator and into the hallway.

"First door on the left," I prompted, sliding past her to unlock the door and turn on the lights. I let her step in past me and take a quick glance around the apartment; as her glance came full-circle back to me, I stepped in close to her, tilted her head back gently with my right hand, and kissed her softly on the lips.

The kiss lasted for a few moments, our lips slowly exploring each other's and our tongues meeting briefly and wetly. She pulled back a little, slightly out of breath, and whispered, "that was nice."

I agreed, but I didn't say anything. I kissed her and ran the fingertips of my left hand down her spine over her shirt, stopping at the waistband of her gray slacks and pulling her closer to me. Her stomach and her small, firm breasts felt fiery hot through the fabric of her top. I clenched my right hand in the hair at the nape of her neck, breaking our kiss just enough to talk.

"Are you sure you want this?" I asked, my breath catching a little in my throat and my lips brushing hers as I formed the words.

"God, yes," she answered, tilting her jaw forward to be closer to my mouth.

I dropped my right hand to the bottom of her shirt and used both hands to slide it off over her head, unclasping her pristine white bra as I went. She pulled at the buttons on the front of my shirt, working it open and free from my pants as I continued to run my fingertips over her now-exposed spine. She finally got my shirt off me and I found myself suddenly and pleasantly aware of the hardness of her nipples pressing into me just below my chest, the incredible heat of her stomach burning against mine. I slid my right hand down past her waistband and under her butt, lifting her - she seemed so light - so she could wrap her legs around my waist.

Still kissing her, her arms around my neck, I carried her further into my apartment and perched her on the back of my sofa. I ground my growing erection into her through our clothing, making her gasp, and lowered my head to kiss her neck, her shoulders, her breasts. I let my tongue leave tiny, quickly-cooling spots of moisture in a couple of sensitive spots, and she clenched her thighs on my hips as I moved along.

I paused for a moment before tonguing her nipple to let my breath fall on her, hot and coming raggedly already.

"Do you want this?"

"Yes, yes, please!"

I lanced my tongue out, roughly lashing her tightened aureola. She gasped, then moaned as I sucked her left nipple deep into my mouth and massaged it firmly with my tongue. Her hands fell from my neck to the sofa beside her, lending her support and letting her push against my face.

I stood and kissed her again. She reached out with her left hand and worked my belt open, then my fly down, and finally freed my cock. From talking to her I know she's had bigger lovers than me, but I still only let her stroke it for a moment before asking, "Do you like it?"

She kisses me fiercely, then pulls away, her hand still on my member. "It's plenty," she purred, "and so hard."

Pleased, but not getting ahead of myself, I pull her hand away from my penis. "I want to make this night about you, Diana," I say, looking into her deep, brown, slightly-angled eyes. I kneel in front of her, between her legs, and she lifts her ass slightly to et me work her pants off. I take a moment to kiss my way up her leg from the calf to the knee, enjoying the texture of her skin. Her panties radiate heat, like her stomach. The red, lacy, boy-short style garment fits and suits her perfectly, I think, and I kiss her pubic mound and pelvic bones through the fabric before I hook my fingers into the waistband and pull them off in one smooth motion. Her pussy, trimmed to a neat patch of gently-curling milk-chocolate hair, is exposed to my eyes. It is quite the sight to see, pink and soft and delicate, small like the rest of her and just a tiny bit wet from our foreplay.

I lean in and smell her silently, my eyes meeting hers for a moment before sliding back to her folds. She smells sweet, slightly salty, and again there is the hint of cinnamon.

"Stop looking," she breathes, so quiet I almost can't hear her. "Stop looking and taste me, touch me, please, the wait is killing me..."

She might have gone on, but I wasn't going to make her beg. I moved in and gently licked the inside of her thigh, listening to her sharp intake of breath as my tongue met her hot flesh. I licked the place where her leg becomes her pelvis next, and she moaned in anticipation of my next touch. Unable to wait any longer, I gently ran my tongue up one side of her opening, caressing the vulva, and down the other. She made a noise halfway between relief and despair, glad that I was starting on her at last but obviously wanting more, and I drew the flat of my tongue in one long, slow stroke over her entire pussy. She tasted like spicy red wine, and like sweat, and like salt; she moaned again happily and lifted her hips as my tongue brushed over her clit for the first time.

I slid my forearms under her butt to get a better angle, and she slid forward a bit so she was sitting mostly in the crook of my elbow rather than on the sofa. I lapped gently at her damp hole before returning to her bud, using her own moisture to add flavour to her heat and ensure that she wasn't too sensitive for more pressure, then began work on her clit in earnest. My tongue lashed in furious circles around her button, rhythmically bringing her closer to the edge. I could tell she was close when she started making muffled cries, tiny groans held back by her tightly closed lips, and pressing her hips up hard so I could feel my lips and teeth being mashed together.

When she came she buried her right hand in the hair on the back of my head and shook against my face, painting me with her wetness. She cried out too, a wordless expression that sounded like satisfaction and relief.

She held my head for a couple of minutes, breathing hard as I slowly caressed her pussy with long strokes of my tongue, avoiding her sensitive bud in case it was too tender; I didn't want to ruin her post-orgasmic bliss. Eventually, she pulled up gently on my hair. I stood in front of her, gently resting her back on the couch, my face feeling wet and slightly sticky. She pulled me in for a kiss, causing my member to brush against her stomach, and sighed into my mouth as she tasted herself on my lips. I pulled back, and she said "Jay, can we..." and trailed off.

Looking into her eyes, the small distance between us making them seem huge and incredibly richly coloured, I whispered, "We can do anything you want."

"Can you... can we... fuck?" She said, breaking eye contact on the last word and blushing prettily.

"Of course," I said, and smiled at her, and lifted her in my arms again to carry her into my bedroom where I laid her on the edge of the bed and clicked on a lamp on my night stand. I grabbed a condom from the drawer and tore open the package as I sat down beside her.

"Let me," she demanded. She took the rubber and got down on her knees in front of me. She used he left hand to adjust the angle of my cock, squeezing it firmly and making me moan. Mischievously, she winked up at me and licked me once from the base to the tip of the shaft, then popped the head into her mouth and ran her tongue in circles around it. I shuddered a little and she stopped, sliding her wonderfully soft lips back off my glans, letting her teeth graze it just a tiny bit. I watched her, unblinking, as she then rolled the condom down my length.

She stood and sat back on the bed beside me. I kissed her again, enjoying the soft texture of her tongue as it played with mine, then moved to press her back into the sheets. She laced her arms around my neck and opened her legs as we went. Then, since she obviously felt ready, I slid myself into her in one smooth thrust. She moaned, practically purred, and ground her hops against mine with me inside of her. The feeling was incredible. Her pussy was hot even through the condom, wet and tight and needy. Not wanting the feeling to end, I pulled myself out of her slowly and pressed back in, enjoying every inch of her and letting her feel every inch of me.

My breathing was ragged with the effort of controlling such slow movement when she panted, "Harder, Jay, please, more," and I was more than willing to pick up the pace. I slid myself into her faster and faster, feeling my pelvis crash into hers harder and harder as I went. She began gasping in time with my thrusts and moved a her hand down to where our bodies met, where she rapidly brushed her clit with a trembling finger until she came again, every muscle in her body clenching and shaking, her back arching and the nails of her left hand digging into my right shoulder. I pounded into her through the whole thing, relishing the feel of the muscles inside her gripping my shaft. When she finally looked up at me again, I asked if I could move her around a bit, and she nodded wordlessly.

I pulled a couple of huge, soft pillows from the head of the bed and piled them on top of each other, then lifted her so her breasts rested on top of the stack. I climbed onto the bed behind her and ran my hand down her right leg; she drew in her breath and shivered slightly.

With my hands on her hips, I pushed myself into her in one quick, firm thrust. Her hips jolted forward slightly from the movement, so I tightened my grip and pulled her back towards me. She gasped, cried, "Yes!" and suddenly I was fucking her hard, breathing in huge gasps and hearing only her impassioned pleas for more. As I climbed towards my peak, I saw her slender fingers clench the opposite edge of the bed. She lifted her face from the pillows and let out a long, low cry. I couldn't tell if she was coming again because just then my own dam burst, my orgasm pouring through me like a tidal wave. I felt my hands take a crushing grip on her hips, felt my cock pulse again and again, and just kept pounding into her.

"Diana," I gasped, "God."

Moments - that felt like hours - later, I pulled myself out of her. She rolled limply onto her side as I wrapped the condom in a tissue and tossed it in the wastebasket. As I clambered back into bed, I noticed my fingerprints red and hot-looking on her ass and hips. I touched them gingerly, wondering if they hurt.

"That felt good," she whispered. "That all felt really good."

I curled in behind her, finding her flesh now cool against my chest. She cuddled into me, looking for warmth.

"Can I stay here, Jay? Just for tonight?"

"Of course."

A few minutes later, she snored delicately. Being careful not to wake her, I pulled my comforter over us and flicked a piece of hair out of my eyes. Her curls felt like satin on my arms, and all I could think of was that and her smell as I gradually joined her in slumber.

I woke up the next morning just as she was sitting up on the edge of the bed. I watched her stretch and yawn before asking, "Breakfast?"

"Yeah. Can I maybe shower first?"

"Sure."

I got her a towel and made myself busy in the kitchen. As I flipped crepes and got coffee started, I caught the sound of her humming softly in the shower resonating through the pipes. She sounded happy, and I smiled to myself.

We ate together when she finished in the bathroom, smiling shyly at each other and not talking much. When she was finished, she pushed her chair back a little and said, "I guess I need to go end it with him."

"You don't have to. Go now, I mean," I said, meaning it. "You can stay until you're ready - and I don't mean to pressure you, I really mean you can just stay if you want."

"No, I should go," she replied. "I want to do this while I'm feeling up to it... but thanks, Jay."

I went with her to the lobby, where she clasped my hand and kissed me again. "I mean it, Jay. Thanks for everything... it was good, and it really helps."

Before I could say anything else, she stepped out onto the sidewalk, hailing a passing cab. She turned around as she climbed in and I waved at her, smiling.

We haven't been together since then, but she told me at work a couple of weeks later that she'd finally broken it off with her boyfriend. As far as I know, she's still single and happily so. She's also more full of life at work than ever before; we talk just as much as we used to, but she laughs more openly and seems a lot less distracted when we have time to catch up.

Sometimes, when nobody is watching, she squeezes my hand and smiles in a way that no one else in the office gets to see. I'm happy enough with that, and she knows she's welcome to ask for anything she wants, any time.