Saturday Night
 mf


He picked her up from work. Working Fridays and Saturdays left little time
for socialising, so they grabbed whatever opportunities came their way. Some
of her colleagues, waiting for the company bus trip to Bendigo, stared
openly. She wasn't the type to have a boyfriend, or so they thought. A month
ago she'd have agreed with them. But he brought out a side of her that she'd
long denied...

He drove her home -- polite small talk with the mother while she changed,
then off, out and away. They had dinner in a small, secluded Italian
restaurant. She was unlike other women he had dated. She did not take dainty
morsels of food, complaining about her weight. She ate hungrily, with gusto.
She did everything with passion.

They went to the movie, but neither could say that they'd seen it.
"Otherwise occupied" was her standard expression. She let her hands roam
where they wanted, and they kissed, but both restrained. She whispered "I
got some sexy underwear today -- I'll model them for you later," as they
left the theatre.

Arrived home again. The mother had gone to bed; they were alone. She turned
on the television; he lay down on the couch. She went up to him; in the
feeble flickering light of the television he could see her desire. Even if
he could not, he would soon have found out, as she walked slowly to the
couch and sat near him.

He knew how to push her buttons -- soft, breathless kisses all over her
face, around her mouth, making her hungrier and weaker, hungrier and more
aggressive, until she took his face in her hands and made him satisfy her.
Hot lips, burning from within, his tongue mimicking the movements he wished
to make. She gasped as he caressed her breast, its hard centre betraying the
intensity of her desire. Her own hands shifted from his face, trailing down
his chest, his stomach, down, down, down to the bulge which she knew caused
him pain in those tight jeans. On the lounge, in the living room, where her
mother could come in at any time, the thrill of being caught added a heady
quality to the night. He went to touch her where he wanted to touch her,
where he knew she most wanted to be touched, to gain some relief, some
respite from the endless desire she felt burning between her legs.

"No," she said. "I can't." Formulating words was always difficult when she
was so far gone already. "My mother... I can't help myself, I want you and I
know I'll cry out... she'll hear..." Fragmented sentences, then no sentences
at all as he lifted her top and began to suck, kiss, lick her breasts,
taking her into that netherworld beyond words where all that exists is need
and response, need and response.

He lifted her, carrying her to the kitchen, sitting at the table behind the
bench which obscured them both from the rest of the house, undid his jeans
and extracted himself carefully, mercifully released from the painful binds.
He was her one and only lover ever, and the size of him was still amazing to
her. He sat down, and she took him, first in her hands, then in her mouth.
Her tongue moved relentlessly as she increased the tempo, taking him beyond
the point of no return. Then she pulled away. "I want to watch you," she
said.

His desire had taken him beyond arguing with her. As she watched, she knelt
up, removed her top with one hand, and then her bra with the other, in a
skilled, practised motion.

"They're beautiful," he breathed.

"Come on them, then," she replied. She watched as he took himself higher,
higher, ever higher, then, watching him, tended to herself, performing for
him, but also giving herself the relief she so desperately needed. He came
on her breasts, then licked her clean. She was lying down now, and he took
over from her, kissing, licking, touching that most personal part of her. As
waves began overtaking her she began to moan. "Sssshh," he reminded her, but
she was beyond caring, and cried out as he gave her that sweet satisfaction
she had craved.

Her mum came through half an hour later, and an hour later he was gone. A
friend rang her and asked how the date had gone. "Fine," she said, licking
her fingers. "Just fine."