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Until she called me to ask if I would have lunch with her, Kate and I hadn’t spoken since the day she fired me. She still looked great. Pretty. Dark brown hair a little shorter than it had been, shapely, 5′ 6′, great legs. The maitre d’ led her to my booth. I stood up as they approached and Kate gave me a hug as she kissed my cheek. She still felt good — soft yet firm. Smelled good, too. It was as exciting as hugging my great-aunt. I asked the waiter to bring us a wine I thought Kate would like. We ordered lunch and chatted about inconsequential things as we ate. When the dishes had been cleared, I poured Kate another glass of wine then sat back and looked at her, waiting. She looked around as she took a deep breath. Just then, the restaurant door opened. I turned to look. Kate’s head turned, following my gaze. A gorgeous blond walked in. Head turning beautiful. Hair the color of dark honey fell loosely to just past her shoulders. Tall, with long legs. Slender but not thin. She. Their eyes flirted but did not make full contact and then he restarted this forbidden dance and their kissing resumed. Their tongues entered the foray and they made out like school kids in the back of a truck on a first date. The air around them became warm, they were sweating, and rationality was a far cry away. One of his hands was on her side just above her hip, at the gap between her top and her leggings and he could feel the coolness of her skin under his touch. Her free hand came around him to the small of his back and then down, onto his ass so that he was held in place. As she held him there he started to grind his body into hers, feeling the friction generated by the movement of his groin against hers and she breathed into his mouth against his touch. Her hand moved. She started to tug at the waistband of his joggers, pulling the material down over his ass. The cool air of the room breezed over his naked rear and he felt her nails as they scraped down his skin. Her second.
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