He stared at her across the crowded bar, tracing an idle circle around the rim of his glass. She was a thing of pure beauty, one of those rare women who could be an object of desire just as easily as she could be a work of art. She was tall; her alabaster legs were toned and well-framed by the black skirt she wore. Every man in the bar watched her, but he knew she was looking only at him. You see, this was their game, and they both loved it.
They had known each other for years. They had been friends and lovers, but fate kept them apart. It was a sadness that both knew and accepted. These encounters were their therapy. They both relished the little game of cat and mouse. They would arrange to meet some place nice and public. He would find her, swoop in, tease her, flirt with her, and she would return the favors. Sometimes they would both be in business meetings, and smoking text messages or racy photos would be sent to their phones. Once, he had slipped out during a board meeting and emailed her a video file of himself spitting into his hand and pleasuring himself for her amusement. On another date, he arrived at his office to find a package in his mailbox, an envelope that contained a pair of her sexiest panties. They constantly emailed each other links to various movies, stories, and articles that showed things they wanted to do to each other. She made a sex tape of herself ravaging her glistening pussy with a vibrator but only let him see a fraction of it. They delighted in teasing each other to the point of orgasm. When they were in the same room, it was pure magic.
He drained the last drop of his drink, and slowly walked past her at the bar where she perched on a stool, smoking a cigarette through crimson lips. He mouthed an "excuse me" and reached around her to drop a twenty on the bar to cover his drinks. As he straightened to leave, he discretely traced a fingertip coated in icy water from his glass up the smooth flesh of her exposed thigh, ending with a small pinch, just enough to get her attention. She watched him as he entered the elevator outside the bar. God, she loved their sport. Giving him a few minutes, she entered the elevator to follow him to their room. On the way up, she reached under her skirt and felt the dampness of her skimpy boy shorts. For the last hour, he had been texting her stories of what he was going to do to her when they met and she was soaked in anticipation. She quickly reached up and slid her panties off and dropped them into her purse. Biting her lip in slyness, she reached for her phone and sent him one word: ROUGH. She always let him now how she wanted it.
