Just One Glance

Being on top was an unexpected bonus for Sara, but it was pure ecstasy for her to be in charge as, astride him, she was able to propel her hips up and down sending his iron hard penis sliding deep and deeper inside her.

For Brad the force of her charge had been equally unexpected but the result was an absolute gift, having her use his erection as she wished. He attempted to heave upwards into her, but really it was unnecessary. She was doing all the work, but then came the feared pull of his scrotum wanting to evacuate.

Sara cursed herself for her eagerness, everything was rising to a wild fire, and she recognised so well that the gorgeous explosion was only seconds away. Wildly she pounded down on Brad's rod, sensing in his breathing that he too was close. She didn't really want it to happen yet, but she also longed for it, and then it was upon her as every nerve end in her body fired, and she could only yell, "It's happening. It's--Oh my God--Brad, Brad--"

Brad needed no advising as, with one almighty thrust which almost lifted Sara into the air above him, he spurted and spurted his seed as deeply into her as it had ever gone.

Could 'the devil's pit' ever have experienced the mingled cries of pure ecstasy or ever have witnessed such madly possessed fever from two human bodies, as they swayed and heaved to their ultimate release?

Brad lay back in the bush, surprised that there were no twigs digging into him. Sara, being on top, leaned close to him, and Brad, noticed that her blouse had unbuttoned. Was her breast unfettered? For the first time he had a strong urge to kiss there. He resisted, and asked her if she was all right.

"No, it was awful," she said, and the laugh in her voice told him everything he needed to know.

"What made you come down here, anyway?" he asked.

She told him, and Brad could not keep his mind from all the positive assumptions he might make from that simple admission.

"Did you know they call this place the devil's pit?"

"What?" And she raised her head to look around with mock anxiety. "Do you think he's been watching us?"

"If he has, I'll bet he's bloody jealous." Brad said, delighting in Sara's easy laughter, and the reflexive hug she gave him. Somehow this meeting was different.

They had hardly moved since their climax so that Brad's limp penis, having slid most of the way out of Sara, was bunched into her groin, and Brad was taken aback when she bowed her head to kiss his lips with a fondness that was removed from their usual passion.

"What brought that on?" he asked looking up into her green eyes. Did he detect something new there? Why should he expect anything?

"Jennifer told me."

Brad wasn't sure what to expect, "Told you what?"

"Everything, as she always does. She offered you her virginity, didn't she?"

"Only because she wanted to be your equal."

"But you gave her some wonderful advice. Wow, telling her to ask me about how I felt the morning after losing mine. Why did I never think of that when I was giving her so many warnings?"

"Too painful, maybe."

"True. And guess what?" Sara said, "Your prediction happened. Some young man came to her table, they talked, and right at this minute they're out strolling somewhere."

"Not down here, I hope."

There was a brief pause, and Brad was just thinking how they should fill that time with the positive talking they hadn't had, when it was as though Sara had read his mind, as she said, "We don't get much talking time, do we?" She gave a little giggle as she added, "Sex is our constant companion. How long is it since that last climax?"

Brad had been vaguely aware of Sara's thighs twitching, and small pulses where his penis rested, but he asked anyway, "Why?"

"Because something is growing between my thighs, something hot and threatening," she said, as her hand slid down between them to explore.

Within a minute, as she moved to place his newly aroused erection into her entry, Brad was twisting their bodies so that she was beneath him, her back into the shrub, and once again he was heaving up into her slippery channel with a stroke as fast and hard as ever.

Gladly, Sara took it all. This time Brad's erection seemed to fill her completely. Would that it would go on and on, but-

Seconds later, their combined, grunts, squeals and gasps wee rising up into the trees once more, and their thighs meshed madly together.

"Why is that happening? Another thrilling climax," Sara sighed at last. "Another disturbing climax."

Brad looked down into her eyes, and asked, "Why has any of it happened to us? It is so rapturous on one level, yet so cruel on another." Tentatively, without taking his eyes off her, he placed one gentle hand over her left breast, felt the shudder that past through her body, and took his hand away.

"No," she hissed, grabbing his hand and putting it back onto her breast. "If I shuddered it was because I liked it--but we both know I'll have to go before -it starts again."

"So just where are we?" Brad asked, standing back to let her up., and pulling her up with him so that they were face to face. Perhaps for the first time he had sensed something more than just raw sex. "I suppose the easy answer, is to keep out of each other's way, and tomorrow go our separate ways. Would that suit you?"

"Oh, God, Brad, I wish I knew. My emotions are in a tangle. I want--I don't want-" Inside she felt the familiar flutters starting again, and told herself it would be impossible to continue under such strain. And yet, hadn't there been-? "I have to go."

She hurried towards the steps, as Brad called after her, "You mentioned never talking—Could we arrange something?"

"Would that be wise?"

"Maybe not."

Increasing her pace towards the steps, as the now familiar tensions churned in her lower body, Sara knew that she could have made a more positive response.

She had not lied about the tangle of her emotions. An inexplicable, strictly physical release for both of them, was acquiring a new dimension. His joke about the devil had produced that unexpected hug from her. Brad's hand on her breast had shaken her, but she had liked that, mainly because if felt so natural, and appeared to be a sign of true affection. Similarly, her intended kiss of simple gratitude had produced, in that moment, a shared warmth that had nothing to do with passion.

What on earth had made her question the wisdom of meeting to talk? There appeared to be so much that talk might help resolve. Sara Furlong—you are one hell of a confused lady.

Brad's mind also patrolled, without knowing it, the same unexpected elements in their recent coupling that were troubling Sara. God, her breast had felt good under his hand. He was fairly certain there had been no bra.

After Sara left, he sat for a long while in the green depths, and found his creative mind inventing a real devil from this deep hole. This devil had cast his teasing spell on the pair of them. Brad determined to find some way to break that wicked spell. All the best books broke evil spells.

Suddenly he found himself considering whether he was already on course to beat the devil--he had become genuinely fond of Sara. That was a startling thought on its own. Yet a thrilling one, and flinging back his head, he yelled up into the dark of the greenery above and around him, "You get that, Mr Satan? You're going to lose."

As his voice echoed around the pit, Brad wished there was a genuine course of action that would clarify the situation.

He took a late dinner knowing that would avoid seeing Sara. But it didn't avoid his seeing Jennifer. She gave him a cheerful wave from a table where she was sitting with a young man, who, he was fairly positive, was the one who had appeared to be studying on the previous evening.

Jennifer introduced him as Sam, and as they shook hands Sam said, "Last night I thought you were her father."

"He was giving me fatherly advice," Jennifer said, touching Brad's hand briefly.

Brad nodded, as he said, "Good to see you again." Then he turned away. "Enjoy your evening."

"I understand there are no plans for your evening. Would that be weariness?" Jennifer asked teasingly, and Brad knew that she had already had a report from her mother.

He went back to his table wondering just how to handle the next twenty four hours. It had been good to see young romance blooming. Laughing to himself, Brad was thinking that if anything came out of this course it had nothing to do with writing. That thinking was to dominate his mind for the rest of the night.

Sara was fairly sure that she had discouraged Brad from making any attempts at breaking the situation they were in. Why hadn't she been more open? No doubt he was believing that going their separate ways was preferrable. She waited into the late evening, hoping. Nothing happened. Twice she picked up her phone, considering calling him, but, to say what? Come and get me?

Three times, during what turned into a long evening. Brad reached for the phone, but without a clear course of action he held back. He guessed that Sara would be disappointed at this lack of connection. On the other hand, she hadn't called him, had she? It appeared more and more likely that she believed that staying apart was the best option.

That thought depressed him, and at nine thirty he went down to the lounge to have a whiskey and ginger. He was in bed by ten thirty. But for very little sleep.

Troubled, and just a little sad, Sara retired at ten twenty to face a very tossing and turning night that had Jennifer questioning if she was all right. No, she wasn't all right. Did she really want to leave tomorrow without at least trying to find some solution. That thinking had her realising that direction was not her favourite.

By seven o'clock the next morning Brad had resolved three things. The first was, he longed for physical contact with Sara, no matter how brief and unnerving it might be. Second, he really wanted to know more about her, and the business of talking might, possibly, be a route towards some kind of normality. He had to face the truth that normality might drive them apart. He'd take that chance.

At eight he rang Sara.

Sara had been up and dressed since seven thirty. She was sitting at the breakfast table when her phone sounded. A long, long night of doubts and uncertainties was forgotten as she heard Brad's voice.

"Are you willing to skip the lecture this morning to talk," he asked.

"Definitely, I've hardly slept and their lectures have had that soporific quality anyway."

"Would it bother you if it developed into more than just talk?."

Sara hesitated, only a moment, her pulse racing, before admitting, "I don't think so. Although I'd better warn you, lack of sleep makes me grumpy."

"I'll risk that. I'll ring you again at nine thirty."

"But--" He was gone.

Brad had a clear idea of how he would like it to be, but already he was pleased that she was not insisting on talk only. His not so clever ploy to enable them to talk without any passion was for him to remain in the bathroom while Sara stayed in the bedroom. Sheer genius,which hardly fit his preference for talking face to face.

After her breakfast, Sara told Jennifer that she would be missing the morning session. To her surprise, her daughter made no protests, asked no questions, only bathed her in a knowing smirk. Given the double promise in Brad's request, Sara returned to her room and took a shower, and waited for Brad's call.

Brad also completed breakfast, showered, and donned only the towelling bathrobe.

At precisely nine thirty Sara's phone rang and she snatched it up. "Whenever you're ready," his voice always sounded deeper over the phone. "I'll leave the door open. Lift the latch and walk in."

Sara laughed, "Oh, the big bad wolf, is it?" Knowing this would give a clear indication of his intent, she asked, "Do you have a dress code in your den?"

"Simple summer dress would be fine--oh, and--"

He had paused, deliberately, Sara was sure, "And?" she prompted.

"Well, in case anything overcomes us, after we've had our talk, wear the same underwear as you had on yesterday afternoon." The phone went dead, with Sara frowning at his final demand.

In just two seconds she understood. His intent was clear, and she nodded her head So obvious, Brad, so obvious. But she enjoyed an underlying frisson of delight. Then she tempered that by remembering that they still had to resolve the overlying problem that had brought them together.

Brad hoped that, being unable to see each other, there would be time for some sensible talk. From there, well, plan B, was less certain, but they could end up in each other's arms. He would give her that option. He just wondered if there might be any difference in their responses to each other. But it could be just a goodbye loving.

The door clicked and he pushed the bathroom door half closed, as Sara's voice called, "Anybody home?"

"Make yourself comfortable," Brad replied. "I intend to stay in here for a while. Out of sight, and all of that--while we talk. A genius system, don't you agree?"

Sara called her agreement. It was so obvious she had to wonder where her mind had been. So she added, "I would never have thought of it in a million years." And she was pleased to hear his approving chuckle. Brad's room was very similar to her own, except he had a queen size bed. She and Jennifer had shared a twin.

"Anywhere you want to start—talking?" Brad asked.

Settling herself on the bottom edge of the bed, she repliedt, wondering how provocative it might sound. "Does that matter?"

There was momentary silence from the bathroom, and Sara feared she might have already thrown cold water on their situation. Then came a gentle throat clearing cough, and Brad's firm voice declared, "Madam, it matters a great deal to me."

Sara's heart gave an unexpected extra thud, and she found her hands clenching and unclenching on the duvet cover. Oh, if only there could be an answer to their situation.

"Sara," Brad's voice was quieter, "sitting out there with me in here, are there any --of those feelings?"

Sara knew exactly what he meant, and had to admit that she was relatively cool.

"Me too," Brad told her, shuffling on the wide edge of the corner bath."So we know we have some leeway. Can I begin by telling you a little about myself.?"

For the next three quarters of an hour they talked about their marriages and why they failed. About their work, and their dissatisfaction there, which led to talking about their writing.

"Maybe we could exchange books sometime," Brad said, knowing that that carried a strong suggestion of some kind of future.

"Maybe," Sara agreed, ensuring her tone gave nothing away, but well aware of the implication.

A discovery that they were both film enthusiasts, an exchange of views on their favourite films, and then Sara heard Brad clear his throat, as though about to make a speech. All he did say, in muted tones,was, "Now, what about this situation we find ourselves in?"

Sara wondered whether she was supposed to make an immediate response. but Brad went on, "The most straight forward solution you know about. How do you feel about that in the cold light of a new day?"

"You mean I leave this room now, and we keep out of each other's way?" Sara said, allowing a smile to play across her face.

For a moment Brad was nervous about how prompt her response had been, but she went on, "If I agreed with that I wouldn't be here now."

Brad felt a measure of relief as he sought to lighten it further, "Yes, the trouble with that plan, since we apparently don't live that far apart, we could bump into each other in a bookshop or library.". He paused deliberately, "Can you imagine that, instant sex in the historical fiction section?"

The sound of her warm laugh eased him further. From here on in it was going to be largely experimental.

Sara's laugh had been more than just warm. It had carried a sense of real relief, and strengthened the feelings she was prepared to admit to, but, as far as she could see, they still needed that physical solution.

Brad was finding the corner of the bath rather hard on his backside. He stood up, stretched, and leaned against the sink as Sara waited a moment before saying, "Can I ask you a rather pertinent question?"

"Fire away." Brad was pleased she was prepared to discuss their situation.

Sara took a deep breath. This had been on her mind since their time in the garden. "Suppose we hadn't been hit by this- this thing, this aberration, whatever, would you have even noticed me?"

Brad half smiled to himself, he had to admit it was an angle he hadn't even considered, but an intriguing one. He had to be honest, without being mean, "I just don't know. How about you?"

"The same, Brad, I'm a believer in fate, and I cannot escape the fact that what has happened between us is somehow preordained."

Brad stood up straight. Sara was clearly on a positive line and that had to be encouraged. "I like your thinking." Now further questions seemed to pile in, and Brad knew that, in reality, he wanted to be out there in the bedroom with Sara. There were still things they needed to discover.

"While we've been talking here, Sara," he asked cautiously, "has it had any—er-physical—effect on you?"

Sara could not resist a little giggle, and she pondered what she should say, "Well, sitting alone in this room, and having only your voice, as I would on the phone--" She gave a deliberate pause, before going on, "—but, yes, I have felt a slight tingle. And you?"

Brad looked down to where the front of his robe could be remotely twitched. "Yes, I have to say there is some interest showing."

"So we're still in trouble," Sara remarked, "even without seeing each other."

"Could be a normal reaction--talking to an unseen, good looking woman. Especially one you have already been--" Brad checked himself.

"So—do we test it now" Sara knew she really wanted to.

"With one extra experimentation," Brad told her, and he had given the advisability of this much thought.

Sara guessed what it was going to be, but she asked anyway, "And that is?"

"How did you dress?" Brad asked, trying to envisage how she would look.

"As instructed. A summer dress."

"And what else?"

"A summer dress," Sara played along with his game.

"You know we've come together four times up to now, but never skin to skin."

"Should that make a difference?" Sara asked, slowly unbuttoning her dress in anticipation.

"There's only one way to find out," Brad said, shrugging out of his robe, glancing down and thinking how pathetic his slightly roused penis looked. "Would you mind taking off your dress?"

"It's off," Sara declared, feeling rather exposed now. What stance should she take? Not a sexy pose, but worse than that, not a pathetic, hands by side submissive pose. How about a spread out on the bed kind of pose? All of them seemed inappropriate. As the bathroom door began to open she opted to return to the sitting position she had been in.

Brad knew his body was in pretty good trim. He did regular work outs at the local gym. Only his quarter raised penis bothered him, but if that came up the moment he saw her it could only mean they were still at square one. Already he knew his breathing had quickened.

He quickly stepped into the bedroom. Totally naked, Sara was rising from the edge of the bed to stand in front of him, arms slightly raised, as though ready for his embrace. Without clothes she was absolutely stunning. Firm, small breasts with an exciting pink tip were accentuated by the curve of her shoulders. That belly, for a thirty six year old was incredibly flat, and he was fairly well familiar with the rounded thighs and the lioness bush. Brad was lost in admiration.