The Office Party

Part 20

Catherine's bedroom is still dark when I wake up. I pull the rumpled duvet a bit closer around myself and look sleepily at the space she's left in the bed, running my fingers over where she's been lying. The sheet has gone quickly cold, but it's nice to think about her body having been there, with me, not long before. I listen for a moment and can just about hear her in the kitchen, and I imagine her pottering about looking sexy in her short dressing gown. I stretch my body and legs under the duvet and enjoy the feeling of tired satisfaction in my muscles: Catherine and I had a lot of sex last night, and now I have that lovely sort of happy-tired feeling of the morning after.

I raise my head and strain to see the time on her clock-radio: 07.37. Quite early for a Sunday, especially as I don't think we even went to sleep until about half two. I wonder if it's even light beyond the curtains. I yawn and stretch again, then get up and root about in my bag for my pyjama shorts and vest top. I came prepared to stay the night, this time. There is a nice smell of real coffee beginning to fill the flat. I take my toothbrush with me to the bathroom.

It's just starting to think about getting light, I notice, as I find Catherine in the kitchen area. I yawn again and take a moment to admire her long bare legs below her dressing gown. My fingers and lips know every inch of those legs now, but they still excite me. Her dressing gown is quite loose on her, and I think about her body – the shape of her breasts and hips and thighs, the smell of her skin, the movement of her toned muscles under the smooth skin as she was on top of me, her soft slipperiness under my lips and hands – and I hope she's naked underneath.

She turns when she hears me, and pads towards me. She is naked underneath, and I enjoy my arousal at the thought. Her gaze runs up my legs and body, lingering for a while on the shape of my breasts in my vest top. I can feel that my nipples are erect again, I can feel them pushing at the material, and I like the way she licks her lips as she notices. I love the expression of hunger on her face, similar to the hunger with which she looked at me in the dress, but different too now. Different now we have made love, been naked together; now that it's afterwards, and we are covered up again but still achy and sticky from sex, under our thin clothing, and that thought makes us both hungry for more. It feels like she wants me all over again, wants to start again from the beginning, and I feel my insides begin to melt again at the prospect.

She reaches up and brushes a thick strand of hair from my face as her other hand goes to my hip to pull our bodies together. I close my eyes and enjoy the hot softness of our kiss. I was right. There is hunger there, in the way she breathes out quickly against my cheek and gently encourages my lips apart with her tongue. There's a simple physical desire in the way her knee brushes my thighs and her breasts slide against mine lightly. I murmur into the kiss at the lovely way the movement stimulates my sensitive nipples through my top. Her hand tightens on my hip and I feel her fingers touch my neck under my hair. I slide my hands up her back and hold her to me.

Her tongue pushes more confidently into my mouth, and I welcome her, sliding my tongue around hers to coax her further in. It feels almost like she's using her tongue in my mouth like she wants to use it elsewhere, and I love it. I slide one hand down her back and fondle the soft tightness of her bum, wanting to feel her heat against mine. She grunts into the kiss, sending a thrill of desire though me. I love feeling her get so turned on, and I want her inside me again. Her hand moves from my hip over my tummy, pushing my top up so her fingers can brush my navel.

Keeping the kiss, I move backwards a step or two, and am glad when she stumbles with me. The kiss starts to break as our bodies separate, but our hands find each other and we link fingers. Her other hand trails over my neck, through my hair and along my cheek as our heads move apart. She runs a finger over my swollen lips . 'Fi...' Her voice is hoarse with lust.