“What are you doing?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.
His eyes met mine, and my heart pounded at the answer that I saw there. With nimble fingers, he undid the clasp on my shoe, tracing my ankle with the rough pad of his thumb as he gently lifted the shoe from my foot. Awareness zipped like lightning down the rest of my leg, and I longed for his fingers to wander higher.
Then he put my shoe behind him on the bench and began massaging my foot.
He rubbed his thumb up and down along my arch. I clenched, each stroke of his thumb seemingly mirrored deeper within. I nearly moaned at the sensation, but instead, I shifted my weight so that I was leaning backwards on my hands, making it easier for me to watch him work.
He gently rolled my ankle, then briefly massaged my lower calf, followed by the ridge above my heel.
With each warm caress, each stroke of his hands...my defenses eroded.
So what if he wasn’t my type? We could have a little fling, right? It didn’t have to be a long-term romance. We were at a wedding, a temporary gathering, so I’d probably never see him again after this. And it’d been way too long since I’d last had sex. I just wanted to have fun tonight.
Ian looked like he’d be a lot of fun.
Besides, I didn’t want to let these stirrings for him turn into feelings. I wanted to own my lust for what it was, and nothing more.
There was no point in denying what was happening between us.
So I took charge. “Clearly, you think you can just foot rub your way into my panties.”
He gave me a flirtatious smile, still slowly massaging me with his strong hands. “So it’s working?”
I smiled coyly at him. “No.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Guess I’ll have to try harder.” He kneaded the ball of my foot between his two thumbs and I nearly arched my back in pleasure.
After a few more seconds, he lowered my foot down to the grass and picked up my right foot, then repeated the series of motions. Mmm.
I’d never had my feet used in foreplay before. Maybe I had a foot fetish that I didn’t know about.
Or maybe it was just Ian.
“Is that all you’ve got?” I asked when he placed my foot back down. My feet felt much better, but now other parts of me were aching to be touched.
In answer, he lifted my legs onto his lap and slid down the bench towards me, eyes intent on my face, lips slightly parted. And before I could land another teasing barb, he’d slipped his fingers into my hair, leaned in close, and kissed me.
My body tensed instinctively, but as he kissed me softly and sweetly, his breath warm with whiskey and autumn spices, I parted my lips and allowed his tongue to brush against mine…tentatively at first, then questing slightly deeper, teasing and taunting, continuing our playful banter from before without words.
But when he slipped his arms around me and pulled me further onto his lap, our kisses grew bolder, hotter…from playful to desperate.
My whole body lit up with desire.
My hands greedily grasped his tie and held onto him, unrelenting, demanding more. The satin dress was torture against my bare skin, sliding up and down as I wriggled against him, seeking more friction, more contact, more him. And while Ian had talked a big game about seducing me earlier, after a few moments, it was clear that he was content to just make out on the bench. He was playing the long game, then, the aggravating man.
I wasn’t. I didn’t want a slow tide of affection to build, or for him to chip away at my defenses—I wanted him to just fuck me and move on.
I took his hand from my hip and brought it to my breast. He followed my lead and gently fondled me, then caressed my nipple through the thin material. I gasped softly into his neck and raked my fingers through his hair.
I was very, embarrassingly wet. I hoped that it wouldn’t seep through my dress.
His own arousal was hard and insistent against my thigh. I lowered my hand and pressed my fingers against his considerable length until he pulled away from me, panting. “Did you want to go somewhere more private?” he rasped.
“Yes,” I said breathlessly. Though I was still reeling from his kisses, and though I’d wanted him to go further, I made a mental note that he had asked me for permission to go somewhere more private. Point for Ian.
He grabbed my shoes and unceremoniously scooped me up. I laughed, exhilarated. Instead of going inside like I thought he was going to, he stepped out over the terrace railing and down to the gravel below. It was only a one foot drop, but I gasped in surprise anyway. He carried me around the side of the building and back to the front entrance, where he took a right at the entryway and then turned into the gender neutral bathroom. He set me down on the counter, then turned around and locked the door.
The bathroom was clean and spacious, with beautiful dark wooden paneling on the walls and a gray ceramic floor. The counter that he’d set me on was slightly damp, and I was sitting between a pile of napkins and a giant bouquet of pale pink and lavender blooms that lightly perfumed the air.
As far as places to have sex went, this wasn’t half bad.
Behind me was a large mirror with two warm yellow lamps on either side. In the dark, illuminated only by the moon, our coupling hadn’t seemed so real…but in the soft golden glow of the bathroom light, I could see Ian’s face in full, and it reminded me
