Eeny Meeny

47

Mark’s flat was a tip. He hadn’t planned on seducing his superior that day and the vestiges of last night’s meal were still in evidence. Still, he’d changed the bed linen that morning and it felt clean and crisp as they sank down on to it.

She’d never been one for small talk. And the same was true now. Usually the man sets the pace in these things – or tries to – but that was not the case here. Mark was both surprised and aroused by how firmly his boss took the lead.

The cab ride to the flat had been silent – expectation of what was to come made conversation irrelevant. They didn’t touch or hold hands, but the air was still charged. Once they’d buzzed in, he attempted as he always did (always? When did he last do this?) to break the tension with humour:

‘I’d offer you a drink, but…’

She didn’t bother to reply. She just crossed the flat and kissed him. Then dropping her coat on the floor, she asked him which direction the bedroom was in. Once inside, she shoved him down on to the bed and reached for his belt.

Mark had made love many times, but he realized that this was the first time that he’d been made love to. Angry at being made to submit, he tried to spin her round. Now that he was aroused he suddenly wanted to dominate her – fuck her, bully her – but she pinned him back down, straddling him forcefully.

Was she loving him or just taking her pleasure from him? Mark suddenly realized that this mattered to him. That even now as she was lowering herself on to him, causing a sweet shudder to ripple through both of them, he wanted this to mean something, rather than just be a bit of fun. Men were supposed to be disassociative about sex. Able to turn off their emotions and think with their dick. But Mark had never been like that.

Again he tried to manoeuvre her so that he could be on top, but she pushed him back down aggressively. Clearly she wasn’t ready to go there yet, so Mark decided to submit. The battle over, their lovemaking became more relaxed, more tender. Helen slowed the pace and finally their bodies moved in tandem. To Mark’s surprise, she seemed to be enjoying it. Enjoying him. Brushing her nipples over his lips, Helen slid her hand between her legs, pleasuring herself as she rocked back and forward on top of him.

Mark was fighting desperately now to hold off his orgasm. It’s one thing to screw your boss. Quite another to screw her badly. Or too briefly. So he fought, conjuring all sorts of dull and mundane images to suppress his excitement, but as Helen picked up the pace again (sensing his orgasm) it was only going to end one way.

He wanted to apologize. But wasn’t sure whether it was warranted. She helped him out.

‘That was nice.’

Mark once again felt all his doubt disappear. He held her close and warm and to his surprise she didn’t resist. She nestled into his side to dwell in post-coital happiness.

As they lay there, the sheet barely covering them, Mark ran his eye over her body. In the throes of passion, he’d felt scratches on her back, but hadn’t paid any heed to them. Now, less distracted and more curious, he looked at them in more detail. He was shocked. The rest of her was so soft, so clean, so… perfect.

She must have sensed his thoughts, because she pulled the sheet up over her back. Conversation closed before it had even started. They lay together in silence for a while. Then she turned to him and said:

‘This is between us and no one else. Ok?’

It wasn’t an order, nor was it fearful. No, it was beseeching, almost tentative. Mark was surprised again on this the most surprising of days.

‘Of course. Totally.’

Then she went off to shower, leaving Mark full of questions.