Flames Across the Boardroom

Copyright © April 2025 by CiaoSteve

CiaoSteve reserves the right to be identified as the author of this work. This story cannot be published, as a whole or in part, without the express agreement of the author other than the use of brief extracts as part of a story review.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

Author's Notes

This is an entry for the 2025 'On-The-Job' challenge. I hope you enjoy and would love to know what you think. If you'd be kind enough to leave a rating, that would be much appreciated too.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

One

Out with the old...

I took my seat at the boardroom table, as I always did. As Head of Planning, I had sort of gotten used to it, the Monday-morning monthly meetings, the expectation to be on top of your game, to have answers to whatever questions might be thrown out there, however unexpected. I thrived in the moment, revelling on being on top of my game, having prepared meticulously for every possible outcome.

Nothing took me by surprise, nothing... until...

This meeting in itself was a little unorthodox. It wasn't our usual monthly cycle. It had sort of dropped into the calendar at the last minute, with no predefined agenda, and no chance to prepare. As I sat there, watching seats fill, I felt exposed. I knew my stuff, of course I knew my stuff, but this time I did not have the comfort blanket which came with endless preparation.

It was what I did. It was what I had built a career on, spending that last twenty or so years perfecting, and I was damn good at it, even if it meant blowing my own trumpet. If truth be known, it had become me, in work, in life, in general. There was little I did without it being planned to the nth degree.

As a child I'd been a boy scout, and it seemed that the motto 'be prepared' had stuck with me ever since. Now, at a spritely forty-three, I was just that. I was prepared. I was always prepared. It was just... well... today, I wasn't and for some reason I felt just a little more nervous than normal.

"Morning, Steve."

I glanced in the direction of the greeting and smiled.

"Morning, Claire... all well?" I asked.

Claire was my partner in crime, professionally speaking. Where I headed up the planning and strategy side of the organisation, Claire was the face of technology, and a pretty face to boot. Dressed in a white blouse, black skirt, and heels, it was no surprise that she turned a few heads, mine included. She was a few years my younger, having had a big celebration for her fortieth earlier in the year, and where I was starting to age gracefully---yes, already there was the odd grey hair amongst my near-black locks--Claire was still in her prime.

To say we were work partners was a bit of an understatement. We probably spent more time together than the average husband and wife, and we tended to get on better than most. I liked Claire. I found myself comfortable in her company. We were so similar. We had the same likes, the same goals, even the same desires.

"All good," Claire replied, smiling back then taking a seat next to me. "And... you?"

I couldn't resist but take a look as she sat down, then crossed her legs. There was something so elegant, almost sexy, in the way that skirt smoothed out across her ass. Inside, metaphorically speaking, I shook my head. Much as I liked Claire, it was never going to happen. I wouldn't let it happen.

For one, I'd been bitten before, going with my gut, falling head over heels into a relationship then watching it all slowly unravel.

For two, and this was the big one, the rings on her left hand--a slender gold ring sat atop the most beautiful single diamond--told me I was just too late. I'd been to her house. I'd become friends with her husband. I'd even met their young children. They were the perfect model family--you could say, if you planned for the way your life played out, you would plan it to be just like Claire's--and there was no way on earth I was going to be the one to make her life unravel just as mine had done all those years before.

"I'm good," I replied.

"Know what this is about?" I added.

"Not sure," Claire replied, keeping her voice down as the room started to fill. "Heard on the grapevine that there's a change afoot, but that's about all I know. Bit of a secret squirrel one this time."

Secret squirrel?

If it was, then all too soon the secret was out, albeit out only within this select audience.

The announcement itself, with hindsight, wasn't exactly unexpected. Keith had been Marketing Director for as long as anyone could remember and wasn't exactly getting any younger. How old he was had been a bit of a closely guarded secret, but the announcement of his retirement didn't raise too many eyebrows. We'd been flagging a little in recent years, still growing but with less vigour than the markets would have liked, and for a long time it was expected that new blood would be needed.

So, the announcement that Keith was looking to step down was no real surprise. To an extent, neither was the suggestion that they were progressing well with appointing a replacement. The surprise if there was one, was the fact they'd gathered us all together in total secrecy for such an anticipated announcement.

I was still pondering the same, when a round of applause arose in acknowledgement of what was to become the end of a legacy. Of course, I quickly joined in.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Two

In with the new...

For the next two monthly board meetings, we followed usual protocols, reviewing business performance, strategy, and direction, as if nothing had happened. In was on the third such meeting that things were just a little different. Okay, so the agenda hadn't changed, but there was one additional name on the attendee list.

'Olivia Thompson.'

I'd noticed the change a couple of weeks before, as I always did. I was a bit of a stickler for details. It sort of went with the territory. You didn't get anywhere in planning and strategy without having your nose in the weeds. I'd already put two and two together to make five and assumed that this Olivia, whoever she may have been, must be the intended replacement for Keith, so when the introduction was made, it was really no surprise.

No surprise? Well, for sure the announcement wasn't unexpected, but beyond the announcement there was an element of surprise; two elements if I was to be precise.

To a smaller degree, given the male domination of this particular boardroom, Claire excepted, there was an element of amazement in that the new recruit was a woman, but in this day and age, with the advent of equality, even that wasn't exactly unconventional.

If the gender provided an element of amazement, that was nothing compared to what was about to unfold. If this second element had a name, other than Thompson, it would have been... well... an element called shock.

I'd Googled the name of course, but there were so many Thompsons around the world that I really hadn't gotten that far. Now though, now she was here, in this very office, any sense of mystery was dissipating like the mist would do as soon as the sun came out.

Across the room, all eyes fell on the powerfully dressed redhead.

If there was a way to make an entrance, then Olivia was doing just that. There was no missing the new Marketing Director, from her fiery-red shoulder-length hair--the colour practically shone in the artificial light of the office and bounced with every step--to her not overly subtle make-up, the shade of red lipstick drawing you in to a beaming smile.

If that wasn't enough, then there was the outfit. Olivia wasn't exactly the tallest amongst the group--in fact, at around five foot six, she was rather diminutive--but what she lacked in stature was well and truly compensated for in presence.

The skirt, a pencil line dark grey number to match her loosely worn jacket, clung to her hips before narrowing down to just below the knee. The blouse, a plain white cotton number, had been done up far enough to be decent yet still leaving a tantalising glimpse of cleavage within. Cleavage? Oh yeah, she might have been small, but she had curves in all the right places and boy did she know it.

At first there was a hush, as all eyes fell on the stranger in our midst. That polite silence was soon replaced by the corporate welcome we gave to any and every visitor. Slowly, purposefully, with an air of confidence in every step, Olivia walked towards the table, meeting and greeting as she went.

"Good morning... nice to meet you... Olivia Thompson," Olivia announced,

The accent was unmistakably Antipodean, albeit I had fallen into that trap once before of suggesting Australian to find out it was close but not close enough. Close enough? I guessed it was close enough if you counted a few thousand kilometres to the west as being close enough. It was a fatal flaw, almost as bad as suggesting my own dulcet northern tones came from the red side of the Pennines rather than the white, but it was a flaw I had quickly made. It was also a perfect way to break the ice, as had been the case all those years before.

So, here she was. The name might not have been the one I was used to, but the woman striding purposefully across the boardroom was one I knew all too well.

All I could do was stare, from the minute she entered the room, to the moment she sat down almost opposite me across the table. Why did I find myself unable to do anything other than to gaze at the stranger in our midst? It wasn't often I was stuck for something to say, but in that very moment, I was totally devoid of words. I hated to admit it, but it was like I had seen a ghost, a ghost from a long-forgotten past.

"Livvy?" I mouthed towards the newbie at the table.

She smiled.

"Good morning, Steve," she replied. "Nice to see you again, after all this time."

I quickly glanced around the table, wondering if anyone had picked up on this slightly awkward side conversation. Luckily, it seemed not.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I'd kept a sort of low profile throughout the day but, somehow, I could not avoid the welcome drinks. There was a difference between enduring an awkward introduction and being downright rude by blanking her out altogether.

I needn't have worried though. For all there may have been baggage, it seemed that Olivia was interested more in the future than the past, so much so that I found myself spending more time with the newbie than with anybody else.

By the end of the evening and fuelled on a little by the free-flowing wine at the company expense, not only had I made my professional reacquaintance, but I'd also found myself accepting an offer of dinner on the Friday night and, much to my surprise, agreeing to the suggestion that I showed her around town on the Saturday. I wasn't quite sure how I'd let myself be talked into the same, but it was hardly the time nor place to pick an argument about it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Three

Why me... why her...

That night, and back at my place, I poured myself a large scotch and headed upstairs. Stripped down to my boxers, I settled down atop my bed. I switched the television on, intent of grabbing the headlines before turning in for the night.

Somehow though... somehow my mind was elsewhere. I was still thinking about what had passed earlier in the day. It had been surreal, to say the least, and the more I thought about it, the more a single word filled my mind... a single word manifesting itself into a plethora of questions... why...

Why here?

Why now?

Why me?

Why her?

To say I was a tad preoccupied with the potential answers to those very questions was a bit of an understatement. I had tried as best I could to keep a low profile, to keep out of the spotlight, to put off that embarrassing yet inevitable reunion, yet there was no avoiding it altogether. How long had it been? I hadn't been counting, but it most have been the best part of eighteen if not nineteen years since our paths had last crossed.

For sure there was much catching up to be done. The question though, and the one I needed time to think about, was whether I wanted to be doing just that or not. It was a long story, and one I'd confined to the back of my mind, locked away in my own personal room one-o-one of memories best left untouched. Now though... now there was going to be no option but to confront that past and, I for one, didn't know quite whether it was a good thing to be doing or not.

For a little over five years, going all the way back to the tail end of our university days, we had been a thing. A thing? Yes, maybe that was an apt description for what had been a rather tumultuous relationship. If you looked at us together, at the public face of that relationship, and you would have seen a perfectly happy looking couple. Glimpse behind the scenes and the story was quite different.

She was the red to my blue.

She was my nemesis and my soulmate.

She was love and hate in equal measure.

She was... and that was the thing... she was everything I longed for... she was passion personified... raw, unbridled passion.

She was wild.

She was spontaneous.

She was unpredictable.

She made sparks fly.

She was... and that was the hardest of all... she was wild, and sometimes, no matter how hard you try, wild cannot be tamed, leaving you the only option but to walk away.

Walk away? That wasn't exactly what happened, but we did end up parting. It was work in the end which did it, hers not mine. The opportunity of a lifetime she called it. The chance to make a fresh start, to put some of those fires out. The problem though was, and it sort of pained me to say it, it was those fires which had sort of kept us going so long. It wasn't your traditional loving relationship, but it was raw, it was exciting, and the sex was goddam good. That said, somehow, I couldn't bring myself to move down under, and that was that.

After five tumultuous years, we were no more, and neither was the drink I had poured myself. The drink had unexpectedly come to an end, just as that earlier relationship had done. I placed the empty glass down on a bedside table, slumped down a little more on the bed, and turned my thoughts back to days gone by.

Don't get me wrong. I had no hard feelings. What happened, happened, and I wouldn't have changed a thing. It was just, well... it was just not meant to be. If truth be known, I had nothing to blame her for. I could have gone, and we could have continued just as we were. It was my choice as much as hers, and one I had thought about many times before finally condemning the memory to the back of my mind.

I'd promised myself to find somebody else, and god how I'd tried. There'd been a couple of relationships, but each time something was missing. Back then, I couldn't put my finger on what was missing, but now, now it was obvious... what was missing was that spark, that bolt of pure energy, that electricity between us. It just hadn't been there; at least not like it had been with her.

There was Claire of course. I was sure that would have worked, but again it was just as frustrating as those failed relationships. In Claire I'd found somebody I could have loved, yet I knew they were totally untouchable.

Then... then...

The more I thought about it, the more I couldn't get Olivia out of my mind. She went by a different name, a more professional sounding name, maybe even a married name, but to me she would always be Livvy... that wild, passionate spirit I spent those younger years with.

But... was she?

Was she the same?

Was she still just as wild, just as passionate, just as free spirited?

I'd changed. We all change. The only thing in life for sure was that change happens, so wouldn't it be no different for her? I closed my eyes, and immediately was taken back to those days, to playing dangerously, to reaping the rewards, to living life on the edge, inches away from it all coming crashing down around me.

It was like... like... like I was back there...

My heart pounded...

I felt that tingle of excitement deep inside as adrenaline filled my mind...

I...

I...

This time it wasn't imaginary. The ache was a giveaway. The stiffness just added weight to what I had already imagined. I reached down and placed a hand atop my boxers, cupping what was an unmistakeable bulge. I was hard... no, not rock hard, but hard enough to have me investigating... exploring... playing.

I ran my hand along the length of my shaft, from tip to base, then back again.

I drew my fingers across the very tip of my cock in a half stroking, half tickling sort of motion, every movement sending tiny ripples of pleasure deep inside.

I brought my palm down against the end of what was quickly becoming something harder still, and pushed against the hidden flesh, feeling first the bend and then the lift as my shaft reacted to the pressure exerted against it.

If I wasn't rock hard before, very soon I was sporting a flagpole of steel within those boxers. It wasn't the only thing I was sporting. Not only did I have a boner, but now I had an undeniable urge to do something about it.

I brought my hand back down to my shaft, wrapped my fingers around its girth, and started to stroke. It was slow. It was short. It was steady. Even with a thin covering of soft fabric, it felt so damn good.

Slow became just a little quicker.

Short became just a little longer.

Good became something much more... something urging me onwards.

I closed my eyes and continued to work my cock. Before long, I was pulling myself off with gusto. Before long, my mind was filled with images... images of the past... exciting images... passionate images... sexual images... of me... of us... of her.

Her?

Oh yes, it was her alright. Somewhere, somebody had opened the door to that room one-o-one, releasing every memory I had tried to store away for all those years. Now though, now those memories were back, and so was she, as large as life, doing what she always did best.

Quicker and quicker, I worked my cock.

I could feel my heart pounding.

I could feel the shallowness in my breath.

I could feel the ache in my wrist.

I couldn't stop.

I didn't want to stop.

The urge was greater than ever, and all I could do was stroke; faster, harder, longer. And then it happened. It came from nowhere, creeping up on me, and as it did, so I found myself focusing in on the tip of my cock, using fingers rather than hand, rubbing even quicker at my swollen helmet.

What came first?

Was it the tingling?

Was it that smouldering feeling of pleasure coming from somewhere deep inside?

Was it...

Oh yes, it was all of those, and some. All too quickly that smouldering pleasure had morphed into something much more. It was a fire, a rapidly growing fire, a fire threatening to rage out of control, and I only had myself to blame. Every touch sent the flames higher but still I didn't stop. I should have known better, but I couldn't help myself. It was like a chain reaction; the smoulder of suggestion, morphing into the never-ending urge, becoming that all-consuming need.

The fires burned bright, and all I was doing was stoking them higher and higher.

Feeling the slightest twitch inside, I clenched my buttocks, in a vain attempt to prolong the moment.

I held my breath.

Still, I stroked.

It was like I couldn't stop.

Faster and faster, I worked my cock.

Stronger and stronger, those fires consumed my sensitive head.

There was a second twitch, this one larger than the first, and then I felt it. At first it was a jolt of pure ecstasy flooding my mind, a jolt followed by dribble, followed by a gush. Before I could stop myself, there was a wetness, spreading out from within my boxers, soaking the soft cotton, dampening those very fingers, the same ones which had had pushed me too far.

I opened my eyes and glanced down at the mess beneath my hand.

'Livvy!!!' I thought to myself, metaphorically chastising a certain redhead.

I smiled. It was a wry, ironic smile, but a smile it was. For just under two decades, I'd blanked her out, pushing the memory of those few tumultuous years to the back of my mind, trying as best I could to move on. Now though, now she had quite unexpectedly walked back into my life and, almost immediately, all I could think about was her.

She wasn't even here, but already Olivia was causing trouble, just like she had done all too many times in the years before. The question though, and one I couldn't bring myself to answer, was... is that what I wanted... or more so, is that what she wanted? I shook my head, trying to dispel the idea, but somewhere deep inside, I wondered.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Four

A dinner date, and an unexpected offer

By the time Friday arrived, I had to admit to being just a little excited at the idea of having dinner together. No, it wasn't that sort of excitement, but it was a chance to renew more personal acquaintances. There was much I needed to know and know now. She had appeared from nowhere, unexpectedly walking back into my life, and I really needed to understand what her intentions were. After all, if we were going to have to work together, we might as well have cleared the air before we really got started.

"So... Olivia... you changed your name?" I asked, watching as the waiter, having taken our order, disappeared into the distance.

That question was first on my list. Somehow, I needed to know the answer more than anything. It had been a long time, so wasn't it natural that she would have moved on.

"What... you mean Olivia rather than Livvy?" Olivia replied. "It was always my name, you know... but you can call me Livvy if you prefer. I really don't mind. Olivia, though... well, Olivia just seems a little more professional."

I smiled.

"I meant..." I started to reply, pausing for a moment before continuing. "I meant Thompson rather than Ellis. Should I offer my congratulations?"

As I asked, I glanced down at her hands, looking for the obvious. It wasn't there. For sure she was wearing rings, a couple to be precise, but neither were on her ring finger and neither had the look of a traditional wedding band.

This time it was Olivia's turn to smile.

"Who? Me? Can you imagine little young Livvy tying the knot and settling down?" Olivia replied, somewhat bypassing the question with ones of her own.

I sat there, staring back at her.

"I'm sorry... it's just... well..." I started to reply without really knowing what I was going to say.

"Okay, okay... but surely you did too," Olivia replied.

"Did what?" I asked.

"Met somebody... got married... you know... had kids..." Olivia responded.

For a moment I felt a little sheepish. What should I say? Should I invent some tale of having fulfilled my every dream since breaking up with Olivia, or should I tell it as it was? What would she think to that? What would it make of me? It was almost two decades later, and I was still alone, still searching for what I wanted. There again, if I did invent something more exciting, all she would need to do was ask around and the ruse would soon come crashing down. Oh, how I wanted to have something more meaningful to say, but I didn't.

"Not exactly," I replied. "Decided to take some time, to enjoy myself, to focus on my work. So, in answer to your question... no, I didn't."

If I didn't know better, there was the tiniest upturning at the corner of her mouth. Was she smiling at the idea that I was still on the shelf? Was this to be the torment which she would use to rub it in every time we met? I was already mentally preparing myself for the knife to be plunged deep inside and twisted when she took me by surprise.

"Must have worked," Olivia replied.

"What?" I responded.

"I mean... you know... you're doing alright for yourself," she continued.

"I guess... well... if you count a seat at a boardroom table, overlooking the Thames, then... yeah... I guess I'm doing alright," I replied.

"But... you never did answer my question... did you? Is it Mrs Thompson now?" I added, fishing just a little about what she had been up to since we split.

It wasn't exactly important, but I was just a little curious. I wouldn't have blamed her. To be honest she was a beautiful young woman, and there would be many who would fall for her charms. I for one had done, and we'd had some wonderful, if feisty, years together. The only problem was the temperament and if she could rein that in a little, she would make somebody happy, of that, I was sure. In fact, if she could have done just that, back then, I might even have chanced that trip down under all those years ago.

"It was," Olivia replied, a little downturn in her tone as she replied.

"I'm sorry," I responded, realising I had hit a nerve. "I didn't mean to pry."

"It's alright... you might as well know..." Olivia responded. "I met him a couple of years after moving to Australia... he seemed so nice, and I guess I needed somebody... and we got married... and I fell pregnant... and..."

"That's so nice... I'm really happy for you, Livvy... you deserved to find the right person..." I responded, wondering quite why she was so downcast in her explanation. "Is he here, with you?"

"And... that's when I found he wasn't quite the right person, as you put it..." Olivia continued.

"Why? What happened?" I asked.

For a moment there was a pause.

"I guess... well... life happened... and now I'm here. I seem to make a habit of it, don't I?" Olivia replied.

"And Mr Thompson?" I asked.

"Who knows... I guess still with his so-called secretary, or maybe he's already moved on to somebody else... I haven't seen him for more than six years, you know... and I don't miss the cheating little cunt."

"And what about your daughter? Is she with you?" I asked.

"He... I had a son not a daughter... and he's with his grandparents until I get settled in... he's coming up eight now, and such a beautiful little boy," Olivia explained.

"What's his name?" I asked, trying to show some interest.

"Steve... I called him, Steve... I hope you don't mind," Olivia replied.

Don't mind? How could I not mind? There were many Steve's in the world, and it didn't exactly mean she named her son after me, did it? There again, it was rather charming to think she might have done.

"It must be difficult," I commented.

"It was... I guess, it still is... but I managed, and now... now we're going to put it all behind us. I know he'll love it here... in London. I know I did. We had a good time, didn't we, Steve?"

For a moment I, metaphorically speaking, closed my eyes and thought back to our time together. It was feisty. It was somewhat unpredictable. It was... and I had to agree... for all its misgivings, it was a good time.

"We did... and talking about good... here's dinner," I added, appreciating the timely arrival of food so that I didn't quite have to elaborate on the answer to that last question.

"I've eaten here a few times and it's never disappointed. I do hope you enjoy," I added.

Olivia smiled. Inside, another thought was filling her mind, a more reflective thought, a thought going back many years. They may have had their moments, but the one thing she could count on was that Steve was never the one to disappoint.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Where are you heading?" I asked, walking out of the restaurant a couple of hours later.

"Not far," came the answer. "They put me up in an apartment on the other side of the Tate Modern... you know... one of those new blocks... just for a couple of months until I get myself sorted."

"Great... I'll walk with you," I replied.

"No... no... it's fine... it's not far, and I don't want you going out of your way," Olivia responded.

She was right, at least on half of her response. The walk from the restaurant to the Tate Modern would take about twenty minutes, so wasn't that far. As for it being out of my way, that wasn't the case. I could have grabbed a train at London Bridge, which was the closest to where they were but Blackfriars, five minutes on from the Tate Modern, was just as easy.

"No worries... I insist," I replied.

"But what about your train?" Olivia asked. "Don't you want Campden?"

I laughed. I hadn't wanted Campden for many years. Back when we were together, and a fair bit younger, I rented a place up there, but you didn't get much for your money. Now though, now I'd taken the choice to move out of the Big Smoke. Once again, it just showed how much had changed in the time we had been apart.

"I moved... bought myself a little house with a garden out in St. Albans. Nice place... quiet... relaxed... plenty of good restaurants, and easy to get to the office," I replied. "I can get a direct train from Blackfriars and be home in half an hour or so."

"I see," Olivia replied. "Seems there is much I don't know any more."

"Come visit, one day... I can show you around," I replied, once more inadvertently offering her the chance to get together again.

Olivia's smile said it all.

"I'd like that, Steve," Olivia replied. "And I'd like to walk back with you, if that's okay."

"Follow me," I responded. "Let's go down by the river. It'll take a few minutes longer, but it's beautiful at night."

Beautiful?

Oh yes, it was beautiful alright.

With light fading away to dark and the twinkling of lights from the city, it was a wonderful sight. It wasn't the only wonderful sight. As we walked along, I couldn't stop myself from glancing over at my new work companion. She may have been a good few years older than the last time we were together, in fact we both were, but she was no less attractive than the woman I once shared a house with.

Dressed in a dark-copper coloured above-the-knee length dress, and black strappy heels, she looked divine. It was no surprise that once upon a time I had fallen in love with the younger version of this woman, faults, and all. Now though, at least on the basis of one week in the office and a couple of hours at a restaurant, it seemed that she'd changed a little.

Where before, we might have argued about the choice of eatery, or the service, or the food itself, tonight it seemed that she was much more appreciative. You could say, like a fine wine, my Livvy had mellowed with age into this Olivia.

The more I thought about it, maybe Olivia was a more apt name. It was attractive. It was sophisticated. It sort of summed up the woman now walking by my side, the one I felt I knew, yet was still discovering, in equal measure.

I wanted to reach out, to hold out my hand, to take hers in mine. I don't know why, but it just seemed the right thing to do. I didn't. On another day, in another part of the city, I might have plucked up courage, but we were not that far away from the office, and I so didn't want a simple action to set the gossip mill in motion if we were spotted. I didn't need the attention, and for sure Olivia didn't need it either, especially not when only one week into the job.

We walked.

We chatted.

All the time, I felt comfortable in her company, wondering why I ever questioned her motives that first day when she turned up unexpectedly across the boardroom. We were no longer an item--those days were well and truly gone--but it felt like I had found a long-lost friend, and I liked it. In no time at all, we were standing outside a large apartment block.

"Here?" I asked.

"Yep... here," came the reply. "Twelfth floor."

I glanced up at the apartment block, with its geometrical metal framework and floor to glass windows. It was a building I knew all too well. I turned around, looked back the way we had come, and there was the office itself. I knew Olivia had said she had been put up in an apartment not far from work, but little did I imagine it would be just the other end of the road. It sort of put my commute to shame.

"Well then... I guess I'd better be going, Livvy... and thank you for joining me tonight... I really enjoyed the dinner and catching up," I responded.

It had been a good evening, but all good things came to an end, and this was the end for today. I'd be back the following morning, around brunch time, as I'd foolishly offered to show her the sights. Foolishly? To be honest, it may have been foolish at the time, but now I was looking forward to it. I glanced down at my watch, checking how long to the next train. It would be half an hour as I'd just missed one, but it didn't matter.

"You could come in if you want," Olivia suggested, taking me quite by surprise.

"What?" I asked, not quite sure if I'd heard right.

"That's if you want to, and you have time," Olivia replied. "I can still rustle up a half decent coffee you know."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Five

How do you like your coffee... strong... sensual... and extra hot

I shouldn't have done, but minutes later we were standing in the open plan living area of her apartment. It wasn't quite my scene. The floor to ceiling windows made you feel like you were standing in a bit of a goldfish bowl, and I wondered how much could be seen from down below. Then there was the place itself. It seemed a little confined, maybe even a touch clinical in its modernity, but it did have one thing my house in St. Albans didn't. It had a view, a fantastic view back over the river. I walked across towards the window, my gaze attracted by the bright lights outside.

"How do you like your coffee?" Olivia asked, her voice coming from somewhere behind.

"No... don't tell me... strong... just a touch of milk... and a teaspoon of sugar... it's all coming back to me now," Olivia announced.

"No... no sugar," I replied, walking back into the apartment.

"Here, let me help," I offered, reaching for the jar of coffee.

I wasn't the only one. As I reached out for the coffee, so did Olivia. For the first time that evening--in fact, it was the first time in all those years--our hands touched. I should have pulled away. I knew it was the right thing to do but, instead, I froze, my hand on top of hers.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still.

Slowly, our hands still nestled together, I turned towards Olivia. Our eyes met; our gaze locked onto each other. She showed no emotion, at least none more than the element of surprise from that inadvertent touch.

I stood there, wondering.

Should I say something?

Should I pull back?

Should I apologise?

There again, she hadn't pulled away either. Surely, she would have done. Surely, she would have said something, shown her displeasure, made some snarky comment the minute our hands touched. In the end, it was Olivia who broke the silence.

"Do you still want that coffee... or can I get you something else?" Olivia asked.

It was a strange sort of question, and I wasn't quite sure how to answer. All I could do was offer a question in return.

"What else were you thinking of... Livvy?" I asked.

"Well... I was thinking..." Olivia started.

Without warning, Olivia leaned forward and placed her lips against mine. It was nothing more than a fleeting peck and then she pulled back again.

"... something like that, Steve," Olivia continued. "That is... well... if you'd something like that..."

I didn't know what to say, so I did just that, and said nothing. My mind was awash with conflicting emotions. I wanted to... god, did I want to. But then there were the memories, of what we'd had, of how we'd behaved. I'd changed, I knew that, and Olivia had said she'd changed too, but was that enough? And then there was her son. Wouldn't this just make things awkward... for her... for them... for him?

"I'm sorry," Olivia replied. "I shouldn't have. I just thought it was... no... no... I just got carried away. I can make that coffee."

Still, I stood there, my hand on top of hers on top of the jar of coffee. In my mind I was frantically working out quite what to say.

"Don't apologise," I replied. "I liked it... I liked it a lot... but is it what you want? You know what we were like... how we fought... how we kissed and made up... how we went at it again the very next day..."

"How we let passions run wild... I'll never forget that... we had a good time... we were just young, too young," Olivia responded.

"I've changed now... I've had to change... no doubt you've changed too..." Olivia continued.

I nodded. It was true. I'd already sensed how she had changed, and I knew for myself that I wasn't quite as impetuous as I had been in my youth. The question though was, did that make it right?

"I just... well... you've been here a week... I've enjoyed having you around... and I so don't want to ruin it... you know... by building hopes up only to have them dashed," I replied. "We haven't exactly planned to get back together, have we..."

Whatever I had just said, must have been a red rag to a bull as something triggered a response, a most unexpected response.

"You are right, Steve... as always... you are right..." Olivia protested.

I readied myself for the verbal onslaught which tended to follow whenever my ex didn't get her own way. It didn't... well, not an onslaught per se.

"You know... I hadn't planned on getting back together either," Olivia continued. "I'd planned on letting you fuck me, just as you always did... and... if it helps... think of it as a one-night stand... you know, for old time's sake... just once more to remember what good times we had... no strings at all."

For a moment I just stood and stared at Olivia. I couldn't quite believe what I'd heard, yet it was so her.

She was always spur of the moment.

She was always do first and think afterwards.

She was always... always... my downfall... my most wonderful downfall.

I tried my best to convince myself that it was wrong, that we shouldn't be doing it, that somehow, she had metaphorically forced me into a response. None of it was true though. All Olivia was saying was exactly what had been on my mind. I'd done nothing but think about the old days, about my time living with her, ever since she had unexpectedly walked into the boardroom.

Tonight, had already been too much. I'd enjoyed what I thought of as a date with the one-time hottest property around. That said, I knew she was off-limits, and that we were destined to nothing more than a professional relationship. Now though... now she had taken me quite by surprise. Getting it off hadn't exactly been planned, but I wasn't about to let her change her mind.

"What do you say, Steve... do you still want that coffee... or can I get you something... mmmm," Olivia continued, her words morphing into nothing more than muffled sound as I leaned forward, pulled her in close, and pressed my lips firmly against hers.

Would it be just like the old days? Maybe not but I, for one, wasn't going to miss the chance to find out, and from the way she kissed me back, I wasn't the only one.

I hadn't felt this way for such a long time. My heart was pounding. My pulse raced. My stomach was performing one endless run of cartwheels, such was the nervous excitement building inside.

The kiss alone was a passionate affair. We were inseparable, our mouths melded together. It was like... like she was a forbidden fruit, and I just couldn't get enough. I felt the tip of her tongue, flicking out, probing against my lips. Without hesitating I gave her what she was looking for, an opening, and Olivia took full advantage.

If I had a question on my mind, it was a simple one; what next? My mind told me to pick her up and gently carry her into the bedroom, to slowly strip her off, lay her atop the bed and climb on top. My heart told a very different story, and in the heat of the moment, my heart was shouting so loud that it drowned out any sense of moderation. She wanted it like the good old times, and that was just what she was going to get.

"Oooh! Steve!" Olivia squealed, putting an end to that passionate embrace.

The reason for the outburst. The reason was simple. Without warning, I had wrapped my arms around her slim frame and lifted her up into the air. In seconds, she was just where I wanted her to be. Olivia was clinging on as best she could, with her body pressed tightly against mine, her legs wrapped around my hips and her arms across my shoulders. For a moment, we kissed once more.

I could feel the rise and fall of her breasts against my chest. I could sense the thump of her heart in response to my unexpected actions. That dress, that beautiful short copper dress, had risen at both back and front, and I rested my hands against her bare thighs, intent on not dropping my precious cargo. It was only a moment though, as my mind was set on something else.

Slowly, carefully, I carried my lover... no, not towards the bedroom, but more so the short distance towards the island which served as both breakfast bar and dining table. All too soon, another squeal filled the apartment. This time the cause was something quite different... something firm... something cold... something pressing against her bare flesh as I sat her down gently atop the marble worksurface.

Never once did we pull apart.

Olivia was perched there on the edge of the counter, her arms across my shoulders, her legs loosely around my hips, and we kissed. How long did we stay like that? It seemed an eternity, the embrace broken only by a burgeoning need for something more, and a rapidly growing bulge down below.

"For old time's sake?" I whispered, pulling away from that kiss.

I saw the look on her face change as she took in just what I had said. Instead of what had been a dreamy passionate expression, there was now a look of cheeky excitement. Slowly, she partially released her grip from my shoulders, and eased one arm around my front, reaching lower and lower, until...

"For old time's sake," she responded, repeating what I had asked, her tone very much an answer to my question.

As she spoke, already she was toying at my erection through my trousers. It was like the other night in my bedroom, but it felt so much better. Back then, it had been my own hand against my boxers. Now though, now every touch of her hand had me jumping to life. To say I was hard would have been an understatement and, from the way she was now tugging at my belt, she knew it just as much as I did.

"Looking for something?" I asked, helping her out a little by releasing first belt, then button and finally zip.

"Mmmm... just like I remember," she whispered in return, easing a hand down inside my boxers and taking hold of my shaft.

"So big... so hard... so ready to play..." she added.

"Ready to play?" I asked, a suggestive tone to my question.

I suspected I already knew the answer, but as I asked, I reached down and took purchase on the front of her dress. Slowly, teasingly, I eased the dress up, revealing a skimpy pair of black knickers.

"Not with these on, me thinks. What do you say I take them off?" I asked.

I never got the chance. No sooner had I suggested the same, than Olivia took purchase on said knickers, lifted her cute ass up slightly, and quickly pulled them down over her hips. She didn't stop there, and in a matter of seconds she was dangling the skimpy garment in front of me, as if showing off the most suggestive of prizes, before tossing them to the floor.

Slowly Olivia inched forward until her ass was positioned right on the edge of the marble worksurface. Then, as I stared back at her, she spread her legs wide and leaned back ever so slightly, her hands behind her back for support.

"You were saying?" Olivia replied.

For the first time in years, I caught a glimpse of her mound. When we had been together, she had gone through phases of being clean shaven, or letting it grow, and from the neatly kempt mat of short ginger hair, she was favouring the natural in the moment. I didn't mind. There was something quite pleasing in running your fingers through the soft hair.

I glanced lower still, following her bush all the way down towards her apex, and the very start of her labia. If I didn't know better, she was smiling back at me, up top and down below. It was so tempting just to dive in and ravage her, but it seemed more appropriate to keep her waiting. After all, this had been eighteen or maybe even nineteen years in the making, so what harm would a few more seconds make.

"Mmmm... what was I saying?" I teased.

I saw the change in her smile, the straightening of her lips, the move from excited enthusiasm to unwanted vexation. To date, I had never told her, but she looked goddam sexy with that 'we are not amused' look on her face.

Tonight, though, wasn't the time to start that particular conversation.

Tonight, I had something more pressing on my mind, or rather something just as pressing in my boxers, with the constant reminder of a huge boner to contend with.

"Oh yeah... I remember... something about doing it again... for old time's sake... just me and you... just like we used to do," I responded, smiling back at my ex.

"That is... if you still want it..." I teased.

That got a reaction alright. Instantly she was sat bolt upright. Seconds later, not only had she taken purchase on my trousers and boxers in unison, but she had them halfway down my thighs, my cock springing to attention in the light of her kitchen. I never had time to strip off properly before she had her arms around my back and was pulling me on to her.

I felt my cock nudge up against her mound.

I felt her lips nudge up against my face.

I heard her words, whispered softly for my ears only, whispered with perfect clarity as to what she desired.

"Do it! Fuck me! Fuck me the way you used to do!" Olivia whispered.

With her request made, Olivia brought her lips down from my ear, and we kissed. It was a slow lingering snog of a kiss, mouths open, tongues dancing, tingles building. As we kissed, I brought a hand down and started my own seductive dance, toying with an equally soft yet ultimately more sensitive pair of lips.

I felt her gasped breath the moment I touched her sex.

I felt her arousal soon coating my fingers with an unmistakable dampness.

I felt the urge to do just what she had asked.

It was now or never.

Switching my attention, I took purchase on my cock, pulled back a little and eased it downwards. I had one simple intention on my mind. Slowly, carefully, I ran the tip along her now slick sex, following her slit downwards, easing her lips apart as I went.

My heart was racing.

I wasn't the only one to be feeling that way. As she felt the touch against her sex, Olivia couldn't mask the excitement. She didn't moan, but the gasp was obvious, as was the thumping beat deep inside, and the almost instant quickening in her breathing as her own nervous anticipation started to take hold.

Every movement down below just made it worse, and by the time she felt the tip of my cock nestled in against her tender inner folds, she was no longer kissing me. All she could do was hold her breath and wait, her eyes closed, her arms wrapped tightly around my back.

Onwards I went, reaching lower and lower, guiding my steely shaft right where I wanted it. I dipped the tip of a finger just inside as if testing the waters before taking a dip. She was wet. We'd barely started and, god, she was wet. Carefully, I replaced finger with cock, nestling my swollen head up against her opening.

The urge was to rush, to plunge deep inside, but I held off. She had told me to fuck her. She had practically screamed, in a whispering sort of way, for me to take her, to ravage her. I didn't want to, at least not from the get-go. It felt like the first time once more, and I wanted it to feel that way. Slowly, I leaned forward, flexing my hips and pushing against her waiting sex.

Olivia stiffened. Unseen to me, she was biting her lip as she waited for the inevitable.

Sensing the change, I paused, the tip of my cock tight against her hole but no more. I wanted to ask, to make sure it was still what she wanted, but I didn't. The answer was already there, in actions rather than words. As I pondered my next step, Olivia brought a hand down from behind my back. I felt her fingers, or more so the firm clenching grip of those fingers, against my ass, pulling me towards her.

She pulled...

She shuffled forward a little more, inching her cute ass further over the front edge of the worktop...

I matched her... leaning in towards her waiting sex....

And then... then...

This time the gasp was audible...

This time the sensation was unmistakable, as I sank my shaft into her tight, warm pussy, deeper and deeper, all the way. I brought my arms up around her back and held her tight. It was then that I heard her once more, repeating exactly what she had said before.

"Fuck me! Fuck me the way you used to do!" Olivia whispered.

It had been some time since anyone had asked me that, and even longer since the words had that meaning. I closed my eyes for a minute and, just like in my bedroom that other night, I was taken back all those years. Oh yes, if she wanted it, she was going to get it and get it right this minute. Slowly, I pulled back, sliding my shaft within her tight walls almost to the point of pulling out.

"Ready?" I whispered.

Olivia didn't answer. Instead, it was the gentle nod of her head that I felt, and the way she took a tighter hold across my back. To another audible gasp, I plunged back inside, sinking all the way in, filling her up once more.

And so, it continued.

I pulled out, ever so slowly.

I plunged back in, a single firm movement impaling my sword in its waiting sheath.

Out...

In...

Out...

In...

Over time I picked up speed, maybe even power, but always it was the same. To a degree the position leant itself to such a simple motion. In my standing posture, with my lover in my arms, there was little more I could do but thrust. If I'd been on a building site, I'd have been the piledriver, rising slowly before slamming back down to earth, each return matched with an almighty crash.

Yes, yes, that was me alright, a piledriver, fucking her with the gusto she had asked for. I pulled back. I plunged in, slamming into her sodden sex. All that was missing was the crash. Missing? Even that wasn't missing per se. It wasn't exactly a crash, but with each powerful thrust came an unmistakable reply. At first it was a gasp, an utterance of surprise under her breath. Before long though, it had morphed into more of a groan. I would slam into her, as quick and hard as I could, and Olivia would grunt out in response, her grip on my back becoming stronger as every minute passed.

Over and over, I kept going...

Over and over, she groaned in response...

I couldn't believe how good she felt. She was tight. She was warm. With every thrust, she was edging me closer to that point, the one where I lost control, where all I could do was hold back the flood, or more so delay the oncoming rush. I could feel it, somewhere in the distance.

"Livvy," I whispered.

There was no response, at least none other than the groaned outcome each time I plunged back into her sodden sex.

"Livvy," I repeated, slowing down a little, trying to prevent the inevitable.

"Don't stop... don't you fucking stop," came the reply, each word spoken almost with the same tone as her now constant groans.

"Livvy, I'm going to cum," I added.

Suddenly I was feeling a little conscious that we hadn't really thought this through. It was great to be back with Olivia. It was even better to be having one for old time's sake. So, what was the problem? The problem... well... this was a one-night stand, and the last thing I wanted was to leave a lasting legacy of what was nothing more than a little foolish fun.

"Livvy... I mean it, Livvy," I continued.

"And I mean it too... don't stop... I want you to cum... I want you to cum in me," Olivia finally replied.

"B... but..." I tried to protest.

"No buts..." Olivia replied, lifting her head away from my shoulder and planting her lips against mine. "I want you to fuck me, Steve... I want you to make me cum... I want to feel your warmth deep inside."

As if to emphasise the point, the next time I pulled back, she moved a hand down to my ass, and as I readied myself to plunge back in, Olivia was already pulling me back towards her. In that moment, I pushed any doubts to the back of my mind and picked up the pace once more.

Out...

In...

Out...

In...

I was back to fucking her and fucking her hard. She, on the other hand, was filling to apartment once more with a reserved yet definitely carnal chorus. It was a rather staccato sort of performance, each movement detached from the last, each groaned note distinct, a momentary lull separating one thrust from the next.

If the thrusts were distinct, and the responses equally so, there was now a constant in the performance, and that was the way she hung on, oh so close. Her head was back down against my shoulder. Her grunts were more strained. She was breathing hard, grabbing what breath she could do between my every thrust. Her arms, as they had almost always been, were wrapped around my back once more.

It wasn't quite as it had been, though. Where originally her grip had been more for balance, now it seemed like she was clinging rather than gripping... clinging on for dear life. She had her arms clamped around me, squeezing hard. Every now and again I would feel her stiffen, her nails digging in through the back of my shirt as she tensed then relaxed.

I smiled.

Oh yes, I'd been there before, and I knew the signs... the deep breaths... the digging of the nails... the way she would stiffen then relax... the noise... the almighty outpouring of desire filling the room with passion. They all meant one thing, and one thing alone... and now all could think about doing, was finishing off what we had started.

I pulled her closer still, leaving my lover balanced precariously on the edge of the table, the only thing stopping her falling to the floor being a combination of two sets of arms and the mighty cock impaled deep in her sex.

Deep in her sex?

One second, yes...

The next second, no...

I sacrificed length for power, pulling halfway out before plunging back in once more, drawing yet another groan from my lover. Again and again, I repeated the same, waiting for that point when groans became moans, became squeals of delight.

She stiffened once more.

I continued to pummel her pussy, thrusting in hard before pulling back.

She grabbed a gasp of air each time I pulled back.

She groaned with every returning thrust.

Still, I worked her. Still, I waited for the change, for the moment she would announce to the whole neighbourhood of her impending demise. I could feel my own release approaching rapidly, and I so hoped I could hold on, to make her cum before she finished me off.

Still, I pumped into her.

Still, she did nothing more than groan, any outpouring of emotion being reserved to nothing more than a soft guttural utterance with every outward breath.

She stiffened again. This time was different. This time I felt those nails digging deeper into my back, clawing at my skin. This time she didn't relax once more. As I continued to plunge into her pussy, the tension in my lover's body simply grew.

And then... then... it happened... no, not that outpouring of desire, but something quite different. At first, she went quiet. There was no more grunting, not even the sound of those gasped breaths. It was like... like... like she was waiting for something.

I continued to work her.

I could feel my own release building quickly, and I knew it was only a matter of time.

Time?

Oh yes, it was only a matter of time. The shiver came first. No, no, it was more of a quiver than a shiver, quickly followed by what could only be described as a jerk. Then, without warning, she collapsed in my arms, her head slumped against my shoulder, gasping for breath.

As she came, she clenched down against me, arms around my back, pussy walls around my cock. It was all it took. The added pressure down below was enough to push me over the edge.

I felt the twitch.

I felt the rush starting deep inside, before flooding her tight little pussy.

And then we were still. She sat there, perched on the edge of the tabletop, her arms still wrapped around me. I stood there, holding her close, my cock still deep in her pussy.

'For old time's sake,' I thought to myself. 'Oh yeah... they were good old times.'

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

What followed was just as surprising as the sex itself. I wasn't sure how long we had stayed there, semi dressed, holding each other close, but all good things had to eventually come to an end. Dressed once more, and having glanced at my watch, I made ready to bid my farewell after what had been a most eventful and enjoyable evening.

"Livvy?" I asked, not quite sure what the question was, yet knowing that somewhere deep inside I needed to be asking it, however crass it might have sounded.

"Yes, Steve?" Olivia replied.

"Was it... was it like the old times?" I asked.

"No," came the unexpected reply.

I stood there, staring back at her. I should have been confused, but somehow, I wasn't. The sex had been good. In fact, it had been more than good. It always was, but it was different. She would normally have screamed the place down, making sure the whole neighbourhood knew she was cumming. Tonight though, tonight she had been so restrained.

I resigned myself to what I already knew. Some things were better left untouched, and this whole idea of a one-off for old time's sake, good as it was, could never have worked. There had been too much water flowing under the bridge between them.

The smile on Olivia's face broadened.

"Like the old times? Absolutely not... it was better than the old times... so much better," Olivia responded.

"And... did I... make you?" I started to ask.

"You mean, did you make me cum?" she replied, moving in close and bringing her mouth up towards my ear.

"I swear I've never cum so fucking hard," she whispered, giving me a peck on the cheek then pulling back away.

I smiled back. My doubtful mind told me she was probably just saying what I wanted to hear, but deep in my heart I wanted to believe every word. I had to keep telling myself it was nothing more than a one-off, no strings attached, and not to read too much into it. It had been a great end to the evening, but now it was time to move on.

"You were good, Livvy," I responded. "You were always good."

"And I make a decent coffee as well," Olivia replied, seemingly changing the subject.

"Strong, with just a dash of milk and no sugar, I seem to remember," she added.

"I'm sorry... that coffee will have to wait. It's getting late you know, and I'd better be catching my train. I'll be back tomorrow. Should we say elevenish, and then I'll show you the sights?" I added.

For a moment, there was silence. We both stood there, staring at each other. I wondered quite what she was thinking, but I didn't dare ask. It was better this way. It was better we put an end to these shenanigans, no matter how exciting they might have been.

"You're right... it's getting quite late," Olivia eventually replied.

I nodded.

"So... I was thinking... why don't you stay the night? You know... it's a little silly for you to go all that way back home, only to come here again tomorrow morning... and the apartment's ample big enough for two. So... why not... why not stay the night... and then... then you can still have the coffee I promised you?"

"But... but..." I started to reply.

"What's the problem? You know it makes sense," Olivia responded.

It was true. It made perfect sense, but it wasn't right. I hadn't come prepared to be staying at anyone else's place, especially not hers.

"It's a great idea, Olivia... and any other time I'd be happy to sleep on your sofa. It's just... well... I wasn't exactly expecting to stay, so I didn't bring anything to wear," I explained.

Olivia laughed.

"Is that all?" she asked. "And... there I was, thinking you didn't fancy my coffee."

"Look... if it makes it easier, I could wear nothing as well... oh, and if you don't mind me saying... the bed's much more comfortable than the sofa," Olivia nonchalantly added.

I stood there, once more amazed by her boldness, once more mulling what had been said over in my mind.

"Now... what do you say... should I put the kettle on?"

It was wrong. It was so wrong, yet all I could do was nod in agreement.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Six

The morning after, the night before

Olivia had been right in all accounts. The apartment was big enough for two, and for sure the bed was comfier than the sofa would have been. I never quite thought she would go through with the other part of her suggestion, but that's exactly what she did. As I watched, she stripped off in front of me.

There was no show.

There was no tease.

She simply removed first the dress, then her bra and finally her knickers, and there she stood, stark naked. Should I have been surprised? It was the sort of thing she would have done back in the day, albeit then it would have been all about the performance, whereas now she just seemed comfortable to be standing in the nude in front of an effective stranger. Stranger? Well, it had been just under two decades, so we weren't exactly a couple anymore, and the sex had just been a one-night stand, no strings attached. Still though, she seemed as comfortable as if we had been together the whole time.

All I could do was stare. It wasn't like I hadn't see it all before, but still I was transfixed by her beauty. Yes, she'd put on a touch of weight over the years, not enough to look anywhere near fat, but for sure she was a much healthier weight these days, and with it, she looked altogether more beautiful. Her breasts were just a little larger than the C-cups I remembered. Yes, they sagged slightly, but I didn't mind at all. Nor did I mind about the hint of added flesh across hips and stomach.

It was then that I saw it, the single tattoo, towards the top of her hip. It was small. It was discreet. It was a single red heart with the word Steve written within. I didn't remember the same from when we were together, so I had to assume it was a reference to her son. Still though... still I wondered if there was any possibility of it being more.

"Come on... your turn," Olivia commented, pulling back the duvet and sliding into bed.

My turn? I didn't feel anywhere near as confident, but I could hardly go back now. I had made a right point about having nothing to wear, and she had gone to the effort of stripping off herself to make me feel less uncomfortable. All I could do was follow suit, and that was just what I did. Again, there was no performance. I simply undressed and slipped into the bed next to her.

If I had wondered if this was about to be a repeat of what went on earlier that evening, it wasn't. Oh yes, she made a flippant comment as to how well I'd looked after myself over the years, and I made sure to pay back the compliment on how motherhood had made her look even more beautiful than ever, but that was as far as it went.

Olivia rolled over one way.

I rolled over the other.

It was as I settled down to grab some shuteye that she slipped in an idle comment.

"I'd like it if you cuddled up," Olivia said. "You know... like you used to do."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next morning, by the time I awoke, positions were reversed. I was lying on my back. Olivia on the other hand was snuggled up to my side, her head on my shoulder, one leg draped across my thighs, one arm across my torso. Slowly, carefully, all the time trying not to wake her, I slid my arm around her back and held her close.

I lay there, enjoying the warmth of her body against mine. I could feel the rise and fall of her chest, and the softness of her large breasts pressed up against my ribs. There was something so nice about the way she lay there, still sleeping, seemingly secure in my arms. All I could do was think about what could have been, had we not met when we were both so young, so immature, so volatile. Could this have been us, still together after so many years?

Olivia wriggled a little and, quickly, I released my hold on her slim frame, not wanting her to get the idea that I had been taking advantage of her nakedness.

"You can bring your arm back if you want... I liked it," she whispered as she continued to lay at my side.

I did just that, wrapping my arm around her once more, and holding her close.

"Mmmm... just like that," she continued. "I could get used to waking up this way."

I tried not to take the bait, not to respond. This was a one-off and by the end of the day we would be back to living our separate lives, our only relationship being a professional one in that we sat on opposite sides of that boardroom. What had happened had been nice, but it was nothing more than a quick fling, a one-off never to be repeated opportunity, nothing more than a single chance to reexperience the good old days.

"Steve?" Olivia asked.

"Do you always wake up this way?" she added.

"What way?" I asked, wondering quite what she meant. Of course, I didn't always wake up with my arm around a beautiful woman, especially not when that woman was my ex.

"With a hard on," she replied. "Do you always wake up this way, or is this specially for me?"

Suddenly I felt rather self-conscious. I hadn't really noticed, but for sure I'd woken with one hell of an erection. I often did. For me, it was normal to wake with a little morning wood. What wasn't normal was to have it commented upon, and even more so, to suddenly have a hand wrapped around the object of her attention.

"Mmmm... so big... so hard... so ready to play..." Olivia whispered, at the same time running her fingers along my engorged length.

"That's what you said last night," I replied.

"And we agreed it was a one-off, for old time's sake," I added.

Olivia lifted her head off my chest. She looked up and our eyes met. There was something about the look on her face, something cheeky, something mischievous, something which suggested she might have another thought on her mind.

"You're right... I did..." Olivia replied, removing her hand from my cock.

I started to relax. I'd read it the wrong way, and she was only teasing. The one thing I didn't want was this to become any more complicated than it already had done, even if I would probably have jumped at the idea of getting back together had circumstances been different.

"But... that was before I woke up with this in my bed," she added, throwing back the duvet and bringing her hand back down to my morning wood.

"It's okay," I responded. "You don't need to do..."

Whatever I was going to say, soon disappeared from my mind as she started to toy with my cock, slowly running her hand up and down the rock-hard shaft.

"I don't need to... of course, I don't need to... but I want to... you did me last night for old time's sake... so isn't it fair I do you back?" Olivia replied, her question spoken in a tone which suggested she wasn't looking for any sort of response, nor was she going to listen to one if it was proffered.

Olivia reached up and pressed her lips against mine, and we kissed. It was nothing more than a quick kiss before she pulled away once more.

"Now... you just lie there and let me do all the work... think of it as my way of saying thank you for what you did last night," Olivia continued.

If I wasn't sure, very soon it became clear that Olivia was serious about repaying back her gratitude. She moved out of my arms and slid down the bed. Any doubts about what she had in mind were very soon dispelled.

As I watched, Olivia looked up towards me.

She blew me a most seductive kiss.

She opened her mouth ever so slightly, forming a near-perfect circle with her lips.

She winked.

And then... then... then, she held my cock upright and leaned forwards, never taking her eyes off mine, yet all the time with only one thing on her mind.

At first came a gentle kiss, her lips grazing against my foreskin-clad head. One kiss was followed by another, and another, all the way down my long shaft, from tip to balls, and back again. Then she did it. As she neared my head once more, deftly she pulled back my foreskin. This time, the kiss was right against the sensitive skin of my helmet. There it was again, a kiss, this time followed by a flick of her tongue.

I felt my cock twitch.

I'd watched her every movement, yet still that touch, from the very tip of her tongue, came as a surprise, sending a jolt of excitement down the length of my cock. It was a sensation I soon became accustomed to, in the most pleasurable of ways.

A teasing kiss...

A flick of her tongue...

A longer lick across my sensitive helmet...

A gentle probe at my urethral opening...

Over and over, she repeated the same, teasing every inch of my engorged head. As for me, and maybe this is what she wanted all along, I simply lay back and let her continue. Oh yes, I'd make the odd purr of contentment, trying to guide her in one way or another, but it didn't seem to matter. As I'd found out many years ago, Olivia was a bit of a free-spirit and would do whatever she wanted.

As I prepared myself for the next teasing onslaught, Olivia already had something else on my mind, as I soon found out. The preparation was the same. She held my cock up towards her mouth. She flicked out her tongue, like a snake testing the air, searching for prey. I lay there, waiting to feel that soft probe at my pisshole again.

It never came.

What did though was something quite different.

What came was her mouth... her whole mouth.

Opening wide, she sank down over the tip of my cock, taking the whole of my head into her waiting mouth. Then, no sooner had she gone down, than she was pulling back off, sucking as she went, keeping her lips clamped down against my helmet. And so, it continued, she went down, she came up, and with no hesitation she went down again.

I had to stop myself from calling out into the bedroom, such was the feeling as she continued to work my cock. It had been a long time, a hell of a long time, since somebody had done that, and I'd sort of forgotten just how good it felt. I closed my eyes, intent on enjoying the moment. If this is what she meant by 'doing me back' and 'saying thank you for last night' I was a happy recipient of everything on offer. Little did I know though, but the blowjob was very soon to be curtailed.

With one last movement, Olivia went down on me, but instead of coming back up, she kept on going, lower and lower, all the way until I felt my head nestle into the back of her throat. She held me there for a few seconds, then came back up with an audible gasp for air. I was all ready for her to repeat the feat, but she didn't, or at least not in the same way.

It had been a weekend of surprises and, once more, my ex had done just that. Instead of the feeling of warmth enveloping my head, then slowly sliding down my shaft, it was a feeling of movement on the bed which had me opening my eyes, just in time to see her sit up at the side of me. She had a dribble of saliva down her chin, and a huge smile on her face as she saw me looking.

"Shhh," Olivia whispered, putting pay to any objection I might have been about to make.

"You didn't really think your thank you would be just a blowjob, did you?" she added.

As I contemplated what she had just said--in actual fact I would have been happy with just a blowjob and would have thought of it as being quite an apt level of appreciation--Olivia lifted onto her knees, then shuffled up close. She looked towards me and our eyes met. She smiled. Once again, it was that cheeky suggestive sort of smile.

As we gazed at each other, she raised her right leg over mine. It was like in slow motion, teasing, captivating, drawing me in to her every action. I couldn't help myself. I lowered my gaze, and I found myself staring down at her pussy, watching attentively as she reached across and straddled my thighs, mere inches below my rock-hard cock.

"Does he like me?" Olivia whispered, one hand stroking my manhood as if to make sure I was truly excited. It was a hypothetical question as she already knew I was, but in her mind, there was something so satisfying about handling this rampant shaft.

"Always," came my reply, not quite knowing what else she wanted to hear.

"How much?" she whispered, shuffling forward until she was sitting right atop my manhood.

"Enough to fill me with your warm cum once more?" she continued.

I didn't get the chance to answer, not that one was really wanted. I moaned softly as she wriggled atop my cock, using the wetness of that partial blowjob to get her own juices flowing as she ground against me. She would rock from side to side, feeling the hardness of my shaft against her puffy labia. She would slide back and forth along my length, down towards my balls, then back up towards my head. It was the latter, or more so the way she seemed to grind her slit against my exposed helmet, which had me purring with delight.

I wasn't the only one in the moment. Very quickly the combination of my erection and her saliva, had set her juices flowing, and the slicker she got, the more enjoyable the sensations became. I saw the change in my lover as she started to breathe just a little faster. Then... then... Olivia let out a gasp, a soft sensual gasp, as the tip of my cock eased between her soft folds, and the tip grazed against her clit.

"Mmmm," Olivia called out, making sure to grind just a little more firmly over that very spot.

And so, she continued, working her sex over my hard shaft, grinding from side to side before sliding along my length. All the time, I moaned softly, and she gasped. Oh yes, this was almost as good as the blowjob itself. I was enjoying myself so much, and if she wasn't careful, she was going to run the risk of making me cum before we had even gotten started.

It seemed that Olivia was one step ahead of the game, once more.

Much to my disappointment, just like with the blowjob, the grind came to an unexpected halt. I stared back at Olivia as she just knelt there breathing deeply, resting atop my huge cock. All the time, I willed her to continue, to keep working me. All I got though was a sultry blown kiss, and what seemed to be a missed opportunity. I was about to rue my losses when Olivia took me by surprise once more.

"Close your eyes," Olivia whispered.

Playing along, I did just that, closing my eyes and waiting... for what, I did not know, but I was to find out ever so quickly.

I felt her move. Her weight edged away from atop my rampant cock and more towards my lower abdomen. I could sense her getting closer and closer, leaning over me. She brought her mouth up to mine, our lips embracing in the most sensual of kisses. That's all it was though, a sensual kiss, a gentle tease of what could have been. I half expected to feel her tongue reaching out, probing for an opening. I was left disappointed. Instead of the anticipated oral excitement, I was left wanting as she pulled back from the embrace.

Moments later, she was back. This time, though, it was something else, something just a little firmer, which nudged up against my lips. Teasingly, I flicked my tongue out and drew a tiny gasp as I caught her nipple. Encouraged by the response, however small it may have been, I went one step further, latched my lips down against her swollen nub, and gave a gentle suck. This time it was a moan which left her lips, followed by a most suggestive whispered response.

"You know how much I like that," Olivia whispered.

"Keep going... suck them, suck them like you used to do," she continued, pushing first one breast and then the other firmly up against my lips.

Suddenly, there was no stopping me. One by one I latched my mouth around each nipple, sucking hard as I pulled back off. A tiny nibble here, a gentle squeeze there, and the caress of my warm tongue, had Olivia purring with delight, and the more she purred, the more I became obsessed with pleasing her.

Not that I knew it but, inside, something else was filling Olivia's mind with delight. The longer I played with her tits, the more her arousal was growing. The longer I focused in on those soft full breasts, the more I forgot about my cock, and the more I backed away from the edge.

Oh yes, the distraction may have seemed a playful interlude, but it had been intentional.

I wasn't really paying too much attention--my focus was still on suckling on those wondrous mammaries--but slowly Olivia was changing positions again.

By the time I noticed, and opened my eyes to watch, she was already easing herself backwards, her nipple leaving my mouth with an audible plop as she readied to impale herself on my cock. She reached an arm back and took hold of my hard cock once more. She had no need to check if she was ready, she could feel the wetness down below, and the wanton ache deep inside.

Slowly, purposefully, she rubbed my exposed head up and down her slit, before finally positioning the tip of my cock over her opening. Down... down... down... she sank, my cock widening in her opening as it stretched her tight pussy out. It was a single continuous movement, taking the entirety of my length, all the way until she was back in that kneeling position.

For a moment she just knelt there, her back upright, her legs straddling my hips. The only difference was not to be seen. The only difference was the hard cock filling her pussy.

A quick wink, a blown smile, and then she started to ride. Slow and steady, long, and deep, it was all on her terms. There was no wham bam thank you ma'am, but just the most sensual, slow fuck. I reached out, as if to take her breasts in my hands, but she soon put pay to any idea of the same.

"Now... now... Steve," she whispered. "I told you... this was my thank you."

She had it all in her control. She would alternate between grinding and riding.

She would pick up pace momentarily, then return to the slow sensual fuck.

All I could do was lie back and watch as she rose and fell, inches of glistening shaft appearing then being consumed once more within her tightness. All I could do was enjoy the way she was pushing me closer and closer to release.

I wasn't the only one enjoying myself. If her continued moans--oh yes, where the night before had been a little reserved, this morning she was more like the lover of old, albeit a lover with the volume control turned down a notch or two--gave an audio confirmation of her enjoyment, there were visual clues to boot. The way Olivia had her eyes closed, and her mouth ajar, as she continued to ride my cock, was a tell-tale giveaway that I was hitting all the right spots, or rather that she was making sure I hit those spots.

By now, she had put pay to the slow sensual fuck. It was still sensual, but she had picked up a faster rhythm, never once stopping as she rose and fell against my shaft. Quicker and quicker, shorter and shorter, she continued to work me, all the time sensing her own climax approaching.

I could feel her stiffen, as the first ripple of orgasm rippled through her body. She tensed. She paused for a moment and let it pass, before going back to riding me. If the idea of prolonging the inevitable was on her mind, and for sure that might have been the intention, it had the opposite effect. As she tensed, her pussy tightened. As she started to ride once more, all she was doing was forcing my head to scrape against that most sensitive patch on her front wall, fuelling the desires deep inside, pushing her ever closer to the edge, and didn't she know it.

Olivia picked up speed.

She was that free spirit once more, riding away into the wilderness, her mind filled with nothing more than the wind in her hair and the satisfaction which came with what had now become pure unbridled passion.

She leaned forward, far enough to rest her hands on my chest.

Her full breasts bounced as she worked her pussy up and down on my shaft.

Quicker and quicker, shorter and shorter, she worked my cock, fuelling her own smouldering fires into a raging inferno of passion.

I was hanging on. I was hoping to match her, stroke for stroke, to keep going as long as she could, but already I was suffering. There was no respite. She just kept riding, bouncing atop my mighty flagpole, driving me closer and closer, edging me towards the point of no return.

I called out, trying to warn her of my impending release, but there was no stopping the free spirit which was now my lover. Moments later, it was indeed too late. For a second time, I erupted inside, filling her loins with my creamy seed.

Still though Olivia continued to work my cock.

Her strokes became a little more erratic, sometimes long, sometimes short, always with pace and power.

Her breathing was, to say the least, strained.

She tensed once more.

This time was different. Her body stiffened. She dug her fingers into my chest. I watched as she held her breath and tossed her head back.

Olivia shuddered atop my cock.

Olivia squealed out in pleasure.

Olivia stopped.

Her arms buckled and she fell forward against me, panting hard as she came down from her high. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight. This time I didn't need to ask if she had cum. The answer was clear to see, and hear, and boy had she cum.

We lay there, together, in each other's arms, as we recovered from our exertions. Over time, I could feel my cock start to soften, a trickle of creamy jizz leaking out of her pussy as I reduced in size, then fell out. I didn't move. We just lay there, together, recovering, enjoying the closeness of our naked bodies.

It had been one hell of a weekend; one I wouldn't forget in a long time. I'd never planned for this to happen, but one thing had led to another and here we were.

Regrets? I had no regrets. I knew this would only ever be a one-night, one-morning fling, but it had been worth every minute. If I could have turned back time, I might even have thought about rekindling that flame and trying again, but there was too much water under that bridge to even think about it. After all, Olivia had said it herself, this was nothing more than a quick one for old time's sake.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Later that morning, I snuck out of her apartment alone. I guess, somehow, I was still paranoid about being seen together, or more so being seen to leave her place wearing the same outfit as I'd worn to work the day before. At least it was Saturday, so the risk of any colleagues being around over the weekend was lower, yet still I didn't want to be seen leaving with her. God, that was wrong. I did want it, but I knew it couldn't be.

I'd agreed to pick up a couple of coffees--that in itself was quite ironic given that the offer of a coffee had led to me staying the night, so now I was repaying the favour--and meet Olivia outside. Ten minutes later, she was there.

"Latte... extra shot," I called out, offering a takeaway cup to Olivia.

"Now, where would you like me to take you first?" I asked.

For a moment, she just smiled.

"What... what is it... was it something I said?" I added, a little confused as to why she had reacted that way to such a simple question.

When it came to replying, Olivia kept it rather professional. In her mind though, there were many places she would like me to take her. She was in no rush though, and experience had taught her sometimes it was better not to jump right in.

"No... nothing... you know better than me... so, just show me around... and let's pick up some lunch if you have time..." Olivia replied.

I thought for a while, mentally mapping out the route I had been planning for much of the week. We'd cross the river, run past St Paul's and some of the sights on the north bank, head up to Covent Garden for a bite to eat, then saunter back via Borough Market. It would give her a reminder of the London we would have frequented all those years back, along with some of the more local sights. We were halfway across the Millennium Bridge, with the dome of St Paul's in full view, when she threw out a bit of a curve ball.

"Oh, and better grab a chemist if there's one around," Olivia said.

"What's wrong, Livvy... are you not well?" I asked, suddenly concerned.

"I'm fine... it's just... well... you did fill me up last night... and again this morning... and I so wasn't planning on taking maternity leave... not so early into my new job," she quipped, making light of the situation.

"Just a precaution you know," she added.

I Googled the nearest Boots, and we set off again. It was a change in plan, but it seemed I had sort of become accustomed to changing plans. Around half hour later, with the unplanned visit to a chemist behind us, and our planned tour of the city back under way, Olivia tossed yet another throwaway comment into the mix.

"You know, Steve... you were always so much better than me at planning... but I promise you... I'll be better prepared next time," Olivia said.

I looked at her, a perplexed expression on my face.

"Prepared for what?" I asked.

"And... what do you mean... next time?" I added, seconds later.

There was no reply, but the way she smiled, and the mischievous look in her eye, told as much as words could ever have done.

The End