I licked my lips. This had potential. “Well, I could kiss you now as sort of a preview — to see if it makes you uncomfortable, or….if it doesn’t.” Please say yes. Please say yes.
She glanced at the clock on the stove and put down the cutlery. I could see she was calculating when Matt would get home and whether he would walk in on something potentially embarrassing. “OK,” she said, quickly, as if she were afraid she’d change her mind. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but ok.”
I put down my wine glass and stepped over to her. “OK then,” I said back. My heart was thumping in my chest. I leaned towards her and brushed back her hair with my right hand. I moved slowly, mindful of her body language, in case I needed to stop. Then I kissed her on the lips. They were soft, and I felt like I could melt into them. It’s so different from kissing a man — there’s no stubble with a woman, and everything just seems more delicate. My hand curled gently around the back of her neck and drew her closer to me. I let my mouth open slightly and felt hers do the same. I daringly brushed her lips with my tongue and tasted the wine we had been drinking. I felt a pulse deep in my groin, and I had to stop myself from running my other hand over her breasts — I could feel them just touching my own. Not wanting to push my luck, though, I reluctantly broke the kiss and stepped back, dropping my hand to my side. Fuck, she was sweet.
“Well?” I asked a bit breathlessly. “Are you up to teasing your husband?”
Her cheeks were pink and she seemed a bit short of breath too. “I think…I’d like to do that,” she replied.
I couldn’t help but smile. This evening was about to get way more interesting.
“OK. How about you just follow my lead, then? We’ll start off slow, and if we do anything that makes you uncomfortable, or you want to stop, just say so. No worries. It’s supposed to be fun — that’s the most important thing.”
She smiled too, and I definitely saw a wicked gleam in her eye, this time. “I think this will be very fun, ” she told me.
We heard the front door open. Matt was home.
Dinner was delicious, and Liane and I engaged in some light flirtation throughout. Her cheeks maintained a lovely flush, either from the conversation, or the wine. I was careful not to drink too much — I wanted to keep my wits about me. Matt seemed to be enjoying the banter, and played along. As we cleared the table and did the dishes, Liane and I made sure to casually touch each other frequently — stroking my hand along the back of her neck, or she’d play with my ponytail as she walked by me. I was wondering how we’d move things along, when I saw her rotate her head in a stretch.
“Sore neck?” I asked, a plan coming together in my head.
“A bit,” she admitted. “It was a tough day at work.” I moved up behind her and began to rub her neck and shoulders gently.
“Mmm,” she said. “That feels good.”
“You’re really tense,” I replied. “I enjoy giving massages,” I told her. “I’d be happy to give you a proper one, if you’d like.”