Tim gave Aurora a send-off that she’d never forget.
Tim and I had the best break-up ever. The affair had run its course: the sex was amazing and we had a good laugh, but at 28 that just wasn’t enough for me any more. It wasn’t that I was waiting for Prince Charming; it was more that I was bored with my life. I wanted something real. And so Tim had to go, because I was never going to get anywhere if I stayed with him just because he was a great fuck and a lovely bloke. I was pretty sure he felt the same; fun’s all well and good, but we were both losing interest in our shallow London lives.
Most of my friends thought I was nuts for giving him up. We got on well and he was a good-looking boy, no question: tall, lovely limpid brown eyes, warm smile, nicely worked-out body. No one could get their heads around why I’d let a catch like that get away, especially with the dreaded thirtieth birthday getting closer every day. But that was nothing compared to the shock they got when I announced that I was packing in my job as a legal secretary and going travelling. But it was all part of the same malaise. Other women my age were stressing about finding husbands; I was stressing about finding myself. Tim, my job, my social life; I had to get rid of everything so I could start clean.
I had my farewell party at my local, for old time’s sake. I wasn’t expecting Tim to turn up but I texted him anyway. The last time we’d seen each other had been a bittersweet lunch date at a tacky café in Soho. We hadn’t had sex, which I was secretly regretting. The drama queen in me would have loved one final brilliant shag but the realist knew that letting go of him would be a lot harder if I had to think about how well he knew my body. As per usual he seemed to trust my judgement, and we’d had a poignant goodbye kiss on the rainy pavement.
Like I said, I’m something of a drama queen, so there was no way I was going to go to my own party without looking great. To that end, I raided the cupboard of a fashion PR friend who gets amazing freebies. Rowan kitted me out in a mind-blowing black dress that maximised my cleavage while minimising my spare tyre and loaned me a pair of skyscraper heels that forced me to walk with an exaggerated wiggle. I was going to leave London with something to remember me by.
The party was brilliant, full of lawyers splashing out on expensive bubbly (it’s amazing what a decent dress and a good bra can do for a girl’s popularity). I’d just managed to disentangle myself and head back to the crush of dancing people when I spotted Tim. It sounds cheesy now, but our eyes met across the crowded room, they really did. I felt a frisson of excitement when I saw him, a tiny hit of electricity passing between us. I mouthed hello and he grinned, nodding approvingly at my outfit. “Drink?” he motioned. I nodded and started pushing my way through to him. By the time I got there he was leaning against the bar with a pint in his hand and a glass of wine waiting for me. And I had to admit he was looking fine. A thin black T-shirt showed off his toned torso, and his smiling eyes crinkled up as I reached him.
“You’re popular tonight,” he said, leaning forwards to kiss my cheek. A scrape of stubble and a whiff of his freshly-washed scent upped the electric factor.
“Always have been,” I grinned. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I thought I should see you one more time,” he smiled, looking me up and down again with those appraising eyes. “And I’m glad I did. How come you never wore that dress when we were together?”
“It’s on loan,” I said. “Actually these aren’t my breasts either.”
He snickered and the moment was broken.
“I should go mingle,” I said, touching his arm. “Don’t rush off, yeah?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”
As I turned and walked off I found myself racking my brains; why had we broken up again? What was I thinking, running off to Thailand when I had a great career, amazing friends and a beautiful boy right here? I sighed and shook my head. The alcohol was definitely getting to me. I headed to the Ladies’ for some recuperation.
As I stood in front of the mirror carefully applying lip gloss, I gave myself a stern talking-to. Tim was in the past; I was thinking with my clit instead of my head. I couldn’t deny that there was a heat between my thighs. I was wet just from being close to him. I shook my head again, firmly. This was precisely why I’d had to finish it. It was no good being befuddled by sex; I had more important things to think about.
I was so wrapped up in this internal pep talk that I didn’t turn when the bathroom door swung open. It was only when I felt his presence at my elbow that I realised he’d followed me in.
I giggled and started gabbling nervously. “Tim! Ha! This is for girls you know – is there something you want to tell me?”
He said nothing, standing stock still except for his hand, which he slid onto my waist and then down over the curve of my arse. I felt my thighs tense up and I involuntarily pushed my buttocks out, angling for his touch.
“Hey, don’t you think …”
“Shhh,” he whispered, pulling me round so I was facing him. He looked into my eyes. “Just be quiet for once.” Then he put his hand on the back of my neck and pulled my head in close to his, gently licking just in between my lips, a move guaranteed to drive me crazy.
And it worked. I opened my mouth to him, hands fumbling at his T-shirt, hips jutting forwards. He moved away from me, finger on lips motioning silence, then grabbed my hand and manoeuvred me into one of the stalls, kicking the door closed and locking it smoothly. He moved me round so my back was against the door and pushed himself hard against me. I could feel the hot pressure of his erect cock against my thigh and I was gagging to free it, but he kept me trapped with his body as he reached down and yanked my dress up around my waist, tongue diving deeply into my mouth all the while. I moaned quietly, struggling to move my legs apart so he could reach my wet pussy, swollen now and longing for his fingers, his tongue, his cock. He slipped his index finger under my pants and trailed it gently along the dripping line of my c**t. I shuddered, grinding myself against him, desperate for some friction on my rock-hard clit.
I was so into it that I didn’t hear the squeak as the toilet door opened; Tim did, luckily, and quickly whipped his hand out of my pants and hard over my mouth. I could smell my own arousal on his fingertips and it was driving me crazy; I bit his palm gently and moved my hips slowly up and down over his bulging crotch. We stood like that for what seemed like hours, eye to eye with my heat growing every second, until we heard the flush and the swing of the door that meant we were alone again. He stood back from me, hitching my dress further up my body and tangling his fingers in my soaking pants, then kneeling carefully to peel them down, running his hands along my thighs as he did. I shifted down, moaning again, opening myself to his eyes and his hands. He stood, then gently trailed a finger around my burning clit. He looked at me with a question in his eyes and I nodded, barely moving, pinned against the door by the force of my desire. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a condom, opening it with fingers that I barely noticed were trembling. My eyes fastened to his crotch as he unzipped his jeans and revealed his beautifully erect cock. He rolled the condom down and then moved himself against me. The feeling of the latex-covered hardness rubbing against my soaking pussy was unbearably erotic, and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to have him.
I braced myself against the door and lifted my hips to him as he leaned into me, grasping my arse and forcing me slightly upwards, tilting my pelvis until the angle was perfect. Then slowly, oh so slowly, he lowered me, or I lowered myself – I could hardly tell by then who was doing what – all the way down onto his throbbing hot cock. As his warm hardness filled me I felt myself open and I moaned again, biting my tongue to keep the sound down. My eyes were locked onto his as I took his full length deep inside me, gasping at the almost-pain of it as I felt him caress my cervix. And then we were there, pressed tight together, the curve of his groin pushing hard against my tender clit as he gently moved himself inside me; with each rock of his hips I got closer, panting for breath and gritting my teeth, bucking against him, feeling the delicious friction build to something close to agony. His hands on my arse clenched tighter, nails digging into the soft skin, and I knew he was close too, so I leaned into him open-mouthed and sucked his tongue out, pumping my body against his as the undeniable waves of pressure soaked out from my hot tight pussy and radiated all the way to my fingertips. I groaned, shuddered, clenched myself around him one final time as the climax of an explosive orgasm rushed over me. I felt him shake too, felt him pump his hot load and shudder to a finish. I muttered his name as he collapsed against me, wrapping my leg around his waist and my arms around his neck.
When it was finished we pulled apart slowly, almost embarrassed. As good as it been with us it had never been anything like this, this hot horny animal activity. I kept my eyes down as I pulled my pants up and fixed my dress. Then I pushed the door open and made my way to the sink. He followed me, stood behind me for a second, then grabbed my hand and squeezed it. I returned the pressure and met his gaze in the mirror. He looked wild, dishevelled, gorgeous; and so did I. He winked at me in the mirror as he bent to kiss my shoulder, then he dropped my hand and left as quietly as he’d come in.
So that was the defining feature of my farewell party. Fortunately for my reputation everyone was too pissed to notice. Tim left soon after, giving me a chaste kiss with just a flicker of tongue, and I proceeded to get royally drunk and try not to think about it.
Thailand was amazing, of course. Did I find myself? Maybe. And even if I didn’t, I got a better idea of what I was looking for.
I didn’t last the whole six months, though. I was back in London within three, back with Tim within four. Our friends laugh about it now and tell me they always knew I’d end up with him. None of them, however, knows quite how well he wooed me back on that last London night.
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“I shuddered, grinding myself against him, desperate for some friction on my rock-hard clit”
