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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1317313-Late-to-the-Party
by Tilia
Rated: XGC · Short Story · Erotica · #1317313
An encounter with a childhood memory turns into a second chance
As much as I didn't want to be here, I'd put a lot into my appearance. I spent a whopping $240 on the gauzy white dress that wrapped around me in such a way that the light somehow flattered my figure. I had my hair expertly wrapped into expensive combs just behind either ear, and I wore shoes that made me want to recount my religious beliefs and start bargaining with death.

It was a gala for what was supposed to have been a good cause. No one was really sure what the cause was, and it didn't matter. It was an event intended for showing up and showing off.

I walked in the door and looked around for several seconds, somewhat let down by the lack of gaping jaws and stopped activity, and then proceeded in, tugging my matching shawl tighter around my bare shoulders.

I stood awkwardly in front of a giant display of tribal masks and swords, attempting to read the reflections. If i could find someone I knew, I could turn around and fake surprise at seeing them behind me.

I was attacked from the side.

"Lillian!" boomed from my left, causing me to nearly topple into the death mask display. It was my boss, Jerry, a little wisp of a man with a voice that could shake mountains. He was speeding toward me with surprising agility through the muddle of people.

He grinned at me and kissed both of my cheeks, putting on a show like he'd spent hours waiting for the moment I walked in the door. Jerry had this effect on people, which is why he ran one of the biggest PR firms in the country.

"Have you met our new colleague, Simon?" he asked, reaching out a long arm and pulling back a man from seemingly out of nowhere. Jerry was magic. I was certain of it.

I turned my eyes onto the summoned, expecting someone droll and boring, and instead got an eyeful of my childhood rival.

"Holy shit," Simon muttered, a grin spreading over his face. "Lily Wheeler."

Jerry looked like someone had given him a block of gold. "You two know each other?"

"We used to," I managed, forcing a smile of my own. Simon and I had fought constantly up until my family moved away when I was around sixteen.

We competed at everything, viciously. We said horrible things to each other. And here he was, happy to see me, over a decade later.

Simon laughed easily, charming everyone within a ten foot radius. "Lily and I were kids together. Used to prank around on one another, try to have the best science fair project, that type of thing."

"Oh, how lovely!" Jerry cried, clapping his hands together. "I'll leave you two to catch up."

He gave us a little shove toward each other and disappeared in a cloud of energy.

"Prank around?" I said, a real smile working it's way to the surface. "You set my hair on fire."

"You liberated my pet mouse."

We stared at each other for a few minutes before I snapped myself out of it. He'd grown up nicely. He'd stayed dark and wolfish in looks, with slate gray eyes and unruly black curls. Probably a ladykiller.

"It's good to see you, Simon."

"You too, Lily. You look great. What are the odds we'd end up in the same industry, eh?"

He handed me his glass of champagne and I took a long draw on it. There had always been a sense of comfort between us. I think we'd been friends before we started to fight, but it was too long ago to remember.

He inclined his head toward the patio and I nodded, grateful to get out of the ritzy foyer.

I laughed, surprising him, as we hit the patio area. "This is too bizarre. I don't even know what to say."

He grinned, ducking his head. "I know what you mean. I feel like I should start apologizing for a list of things I can barely remember."

"You called me fat once."

"Lily," he said, attempting seriousness. "I never thought you were fat. Forgive me."

I took another sip on his champagne and handed it back to him. "I'll think about it."

We walked down the stairs and toward a garden area lit with fairy lights. It was beautifully done and completely empty so early in the evening. The music from the party drifted out to the garden in a pleasant hush.

"I wrote you once," he said. "Did you ever get it?"

"No," I said, surprised. I stopped walking and looked at him. "What did you write me about?"

"I don't remember," he said with a shrug.

There was another long silence, and then I asked, "When?"

"About a year after you left. Right before graduation. I probably wanted to know which colleges you were trying to get into."

"Mm, I went to state. Full scholarship, worth the less-than-stellar reference."

He nodded, finishing off the champagne. "I'm going to steal a bottle from the gazebo, give me a sec." He hurried off, and I watched him go.

He talked to a waiter setting up a dancing area just off the patio, occasionally motioning to me, and the waiter seemed to soften. A few seconds later, he returned with a bottle.

"Did you tell him you were proposing?"

Simon flashed me a wicked grin. "I told him there would be a proposal of sorts."

"Ah, bastard. Everyone will think I'm the party slut, now."

He mimed insult. "I never told him your name. Besides, that dress could've started rumors all on its own."

I preened for a moment, and spun. "Do you like it? I spent way too much on it."

He took a long look at my legs. My stomach did a fluttery thing.

"It's a bit short," he managed in a dark, thick voice that carried all sorts of implications.

My breath caught in my throat, and I was momentarily frozen, before regaining composure.

"Too short for the fat girl," I mocked, grabbing the bottle from him to cover my awkwardness. We walked deeper into the hedges, the ground becoming softer under our feet.

We passed by several little cupid benches intended for later in the evening, when several couples would want to take walks and rest in the garden.

"Give me that," he said, snatching the bottle from me. "And take off your shoes, you keep sinking into the ground. It's ridiculous."

I stopped and yanked the shoes off, embarrassed. "Well, you have to wear heels to a party."

"I didn't."

"Oh ho, so you're funny?" I muttered, catching up with him.

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and my body stiffened. We were way out of range for the party, alone, and he looked great in his suit. I didn't plan on being vulnerable tonight. In fact, I'd dressed purposely to remain in control.

"Here," he said in a soft voice, handing me the champagne. His hand lingered over mine, before a long brush away, leaving a trail of warmth. I brought the bottle slowly to my lips and drank, keeping my eyes on his.

"Lily ..."

I finished my drink and lowered the bottle. We'd come to a spot at some point, and were facing each other, surrounded by greenery and soft little lights dancing through the plants.

He took a step forward before either of us could say anything, and wrapped a hand around the back of my neck pulling my mouth up to his. His lips were demanding, moving against my mouth, drawing my bottom lip between his teeth.

His other hand had spread over my ribcage pulling me against his long, warm body without a whisper of space between us.

I opened my mouth to the kiss. His tongue was slow and certain, moving in sexy circles and lengths through my mouth. His hand trailed upward to cup my breast. His thumb brushed against my face.

I wrapped the arm holding the champagne bottle around his neck, trying to hold on. He'd come at me before I had time to think about it, and I was in no condition to rationalize what was going on now, anyway.

He squeezed my breast, running a thumb over the tight nub of my nipple, making me moan into his mouth. He reacted to my moan by turning my head and delving deeper into the kiss, pulling me tighter against him. I could feel his arousal growing between us, and it made my knees weak.

He pulled away slightly, pushing me toward one of the little benches. "I called you fat because I wanted to touch you."

"Hmm?" I managed, sitting down on the bench and looking at him, trying to catch my breath.

He shrugged off his jacket and sat beside me, loosening his tie. "You were developing," he said, looking at my body, causing sparks of heat to flash inside me. "I wanted to do things to you. I dreamed about it. I couldn't chase it from my mind. So, I called you fat to make myself believe I didn't, and it just made it worse."

I leaned forward, taking off his tie for him. "You were attracted to me?"

"Yes," he whispered, tugging me sharply, so that I fell onto his lap. I straightened, straddling him, as he ran his hands down the sides of my body. "You tortured me."

I arched my back to the sensation of his clever, capable hands sliding from my hips over my waist and to the sides of my breasts. He stared at me, his gray eyes watching with intensity.

He looped his fingers under the top of my dress and gently pulled it down, exposing my breasts to the crisp night air.

His eyes flashed. "I tried to picture you like this. Wanting me. Letting me touch you."

"Simon," I managed, barely able to speak as he leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around one of my nipples. "Someone might ... mmmm."

His hands steadied the small of my back while he tasted me, not concerned with someone stumbling upon us. With my legs on either side of his waist, I could feel him pressing against me, urging what shouldn't happen in such an environment.

His teeth grazed over my nipple making me stifle a cry. I dug my fingers into his hair and bit down on my lip to keep myself from attracting anyone down our direction. I could feel his mouth change into a smile.

"I wanted you to touch me," I managed, heat flaring in my groin. "I wanted you to."

He pushed back, his hands running down my shoulders. He doesn't have to say anything; his eyes say it all.

My dress had ridden up over my hips leaving me exposed but for the flimsy lace panties. He reached down and cupped me, and I felt like I might pass out from the sheer jolt of it.

He pushed my panties aside impatiently and slid his fingers over my smooth arousal, releasing a groan of his own.

"Simon, please," I managed, shuddering from his touch. I pressed down on his bulge and he inhaled sharply.

"Lily, we can't," he groaned.

I wiggled around on him, impatiently, and his hand tightened in my hair, pulling my head back. "Please," I repeated.

I fumbled with his zipper making him hiss out another breath before he reached down and did it for me.

I wrapped my hand around him, enjoying his loss of control, his head leaning back, his eyes squeezing shut. I slid my hand over him, squeezing gently, unsure of how to proceed.

He gripped my wrist, stopping me, and kissed me again, long and slow, drawing my hand up to his neck. He lifted me up and onto him, so that I slide slowly down onto his shaft, both of us holding our breath.

We looked at each other for a long time, until I broke into a smile. He did too, shaking his head, "Don't ruin this, Lily."

"Hush," I managed, pressing my forehead to his as I started to move on him.

We lapsed into silence as I rode him, both of us consumed by the moment. I clasped my hands together behind his neck, biting down on my lip as he filled me, guiding me with firm hands to my hips.

He leaned forward, catching one of my bare breasts in his mouth again, and this time, I was unable to stifle a moan. He slid a hand up my ribcage and buried it in my hair again, pulling out one of the expensive combs.

I arched sharply, feeling the pressure build up between us. His mouth slid off of my breast and he buried his face in my chest as the climax approached.

I gasped, then swallowed a scream as it ripped through me, and I felt him empty a warm gush of fulfillment into me. I went limp in his arms, holding tightly around his neck as we both tried to catch our breath.

I felt his smile again, this time against my neck.

I leaned back tugging my dress up and shot him a look. "What are you grinning about?"

He grabbed my neck again, and pulled me forward for a hard kiss. "You," he said, "I"m grinning about you."
© Copyright 2007 Tilia (tilia at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1317313-Late-to-the-Party