It's been two months since I've seen Andy. There have been a handful of phone calls, mainly about work, since he was transferred to our East coast office. Frankly, I was grateful for a bit of space. Seeing him, being with him, was way too intense for me sometimes. There's clearly something very powerful there, that neither of us can articulate well, even though we've tried.
No one has ever affected me this deeply before, and I know, if things were different, if we weren't both married, we could become totally lost in each other.
The intensity had become simply too much for me. I am trying to work on my marriage. I'm married to a really nice guy. But I've have this nagging feeling that he's not the nice guy for me, if you know what I mean. Things were already on their way downhill, in a totally mundane kind of way, long before I met Andy at work. It wasn't, however, until I met Andy, and really got to know him that I realized what was missing.
My perfectly nice husband has never has affected me to my core the way Andy has. Honestly, no one I've ever met has had this kind of lasting, powerful impact on me before. There's something so powerful and erotic about Andy that I just can't hope to recreate with anyone else.
The two months break has been good. I've tried to really focus on work, and on finding the good things in my marriage, hoping that I can find something, if not the same, then at least as powerful as the erotic and intellectual hold Andy seems to have over me. Some days I think I'm making progress. Others, find myself looking over real estate ads wondering if we can afford two houses in this neighbourhood so the kids' school routine isn't messed up.
Andy and I did have plans for a business trip about a month ago. It was perfect. In a city neither of us lived in, plus my husband and kids were away with friends and wouldn't be home when I got back, so I had an extra time-space buffer to come down from what was surely going to be an intense few days.
The hotel rooms were booked, and travel arrangements made. Then 2 days before, Andy cancelled. I was not happy. And I was cross enough that I thought it might have a chance of being over. I felt like I'd successfully parked the whole idea of Andy, and honestly, didn't think a whole bunch about him over the next month, other than the odd, stray recollection of some of the incredibly hot, stolen moments we shared over the last 6 months.
So, this past 2 months we've talked on the phone, all very businesslike. As colleagues and friends. When it became apparent a week or so ago that we would need to go on another overnight trip, this time with some other colleagues, I was pretty certain it would just be platonic. I really had no intention of doing anything with Andy, and didn't think much about it.
Then yesterday, when I was packing for the trip, I told myself, the reason I was packing my new Agent Provocateur lingerie had nothing to do with him. At least I didn't pack condoms. I did, however spend extra time curling my hair.
He texted me, "the eagle has arrived". Which I took to mean he was parked down by the entrance to the building and I should come down so we could leave for the 3 hour drive.
"Fab. I'm coming right now", I texted back.
I knew, as I was typing it, what I really meant that comment to achieve. But still, I was in denial. The denial lasted about as long as it took me to get from my office to the car.
I came down in the lift.
I walked to his car.
I opened the door.
And, despite the 2 months away, I was instantly transported to that place he takes me, without fail, whenever I see him. Somewhere erotic, wet, kind of dizzy. A place where all I can see are his long graceful fingers, his brown eyes and the back of his neck. Where all I can smell is him. The cologne he wears, but also, the smell of his skin. It's a place where all I can think about is how much I want to run my nails through his hair, down the back of his neck, and pull him in to kiss me hard.
I swallow hard and we start to talk. About work. About his boss, about mine. About our families. I smile and listen, but I can't hear him over the unbearable longing I feel to touch him. Kiss him. Taste him.
I think he's talking about then meeting he has on Thursday. I can feel myself answer him, but really, I am not here at all. I'm thinking about the last time I saw him. 2 months ago, we met for Friday drinks at a sunny patio after work. He was in town for a meeting. We flirted hard for an hour or so, but both had commitments. We walked down to the parking garage together and he pinned me up against the elevator wall, roughly shoving his hand into my bra and kissing me violently. Just. The. Way. I. Like. It. Al little bit rough and a whole lot hot.
We got down to his car, and were on each other as soon as the doors closed. His hot tongue in my mouth. Then his teeth on my nipples. His hand between my legs. Why did I wear the pants with the side zip? Stupid. I rubbed the head of his cock teasingly through his jeans. People were walking by the car. This made him so hot. He loves public sex, and I love to make him squirm. When we are in that place together, there is pretty much nothing I wouldn't do.
I snap out of my daydream. We're halfway through the car ride, and I figure I could easily fuck him by the side of the road if given half the chance. Snow and all. I don't care.
