The One That Got Away

Her name was Beth and she was a relationship adviser. I’d been seeing her for three months in an attempt to repair my relationship with Gema, my twenty-seven-year-old girlfriend. Relations had become strained with Gema – I’m not really sure why – and after intensive discussions, Beth and I concluded that the best way to win Gema back would be to make her jealous. The route to her jealousy though had yet to be decided. I felt that the sessions had been productive and was happy to leave it at that. However, Beth asked me back for one more – gratis –session, just to discuss ‘this and that’ and, because I liked her, I agreed.

I arrived at Beth’s office to find her sitting behind her desk. She was forty-two, ten years older than me, with short fair hair, deep blue eyes and high cheek-bones. As usual, she was smartly dressed in a cream, short-sleeved top and a navy blue skirt. Beth’s tops always clung to her shapely breasts. They were never provocative, but they were sensual. Likewise, her skirts were of a modest length, but they hugged the graceful curves of her hips and thighs. She stood as I entered, smiled, and welcomed me to her client’s chair. I sat and we chatted about ‘this and that’ and the conversation moved around to philosophers. I was big on Peter Abelard at the time and it seemed that Beth had a deep interest in him as well. We discussed Abelard’s relationship with Heloise then my hour was up and it was time to leave her office. I had my hand on the office door and was about to exit when she wrapped her arms around me and held me tight. She murmured into my ear, ‘I love you.’ Then she broke the embrace, opened the door and watched as, stunned, I staggered from her office.

That night, I mulled over Beth’s words and actions. What was she playing at? Was she sincere? I liked her, a lot, but I loved Gema. Indeed, on arriving home I phoned Gema at her workplace – she was a hotel receptionist – and, in keeping with the past few months, she refused to take my call. Maybe it was time to give up on Gema. However, I knew from her wedding ring that Beth was married, though casual comments revealed that she was not happy in her marriage.

The following morning Beth phoned me. She wanted to meet up. I was still torn by the idea of getting back to Gema, but I decided to agree to the meeting, my usual time-slot at her office.

I arrived to find Beth looking as smart as always, though today wearing a front-buttoned blouse and a fresh layer of lipstick.

We chatted, about ‘this and that’ with no mention of ‘I love you’; it was as though the embrace had never occurred. We moved on to Voltaire and the Enlightenment and then it was time to leave. At the door we hesitated and Beth looked up into my light blue eyes. She moaned, threw her arms around me and again murmured, ‘I love you.’

I was prepared for her kiss on this occasion and I responded with passion, placing one hand on the back of her head, the other on the small of her back. I leaned against her, tilting her head away from me, so that her neck was exposed. I ran my tongue along her exposed neck and again she moaned, closing her eyes, fluttering her eyelashes. While kissing her neck, I whispered, ‘I love you too.’ And she took my head in her hands, brought my lips to her lips and gave me a deep, French kiss.


We were leaning against the office wall, our heavy breathing betraying our desire. We writhed against each other, our hands exploring our bodies, our lips tasting and offering sensual delight. Beth tilted her head back, closed her eyes and thrust her breasts forward. While kissing her cleavage, I cupped her left breast through her clothes.

‘Oh, yes,’ she sighed, and I started to unbutton her blouse. As each button popped open I kissed her skin. Her blouse was padded – she wore no bra – and so each kiss exposed the valley of her breasts. I kissed her down to her navel and on the return journey to her neck I pulled her blouse open, revealing her breasts. Beth had full, generous breasts and she placed my head between them and we stayed in that position for a while, hugging each other.

After another round of passionate kissing and caressing, I ran my tongue around Beth’s areolae and she groaned. Her nipples were erect now and I sucked them. At first Beth gasped, then she sighed, ‘Oh, yes. I like that.’

I was fully aroused by now. I did allow myself a guilty thought about Gema, but she had walked out on me, she had no time for me, so she was history. Beth was the present and inflaming my desire. I moved my hands over her buttocks, then started to unzip her skirt.

At first, she kissed me, offering a passionate response. Then she pulled away, adjusted her clothing and said, ‘Not now. I have to go. I’ll phone you when I can.’

I groaned. What was she playing at? Before I could utter a word, she ushered me out of her office and I walked down the corridor, trying to hide my embarrassment.

The next day, Beth phoned me again. ‘I loved our meeting yesterday,’ she breathed, ‘will you meet me again?’

To be honest, I was in two minds. I wanted her, badly, but did she really want me?

‘We’ll be alone all afternoon,’ she encouraged. ‘Come early. I have a surprise for you.’

A surprise…that clinched it. ‘I’ll see you at one,’ I said.

I arrived at Beth’s office to find her sitting on her desk. As soon as I entered she ran towards me and embraced me. I picked up from where I left off yesterday and unzipped her skirt. This time she nuzzled her cheek against mine and breathed into my ear. ‘I want you,’ she sighed.

‘I want you too.’

I unbuttoned her skirt and the garment fell to the floor. Beth was wearing tights and blue, lacy knickers. I placed my hands in her knickers, cupping her rear, and pulled her close. She responded with more French kissing and a hand on my groin. Her fingers were outlining my erection while my right hand moved around to her front. I caressed her through her tights and knickers, then my fingers explored her flat belly and the tiny bow at the top of her knickers. I eased the lace away from her skin then ran my fingers through the luxurious curls of her pubic hair. As my fingers touched her curls, Beth shuddered and moaned. She placed her head on my shoulders, her arms around my neck, and opened her legs. My fingers went deeper into her knickers, searching for her pearl.

‘Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes,’ she sighed as my fingers circled her pearl. I kept my movements slow and sensual and, with her head still resting on my shoulders, she moaned softly into my ear. ‘Oh, that’s so good.’

My middle finger teased her lower lips. In response, she thrust her hips forward and my finger was in. My finger moved easily through her sensual honey, then I held steady for a while as she writhed on my finger, her husky, erotic moans filling my ear.

Beth was ready. I was ready. I unzipped my trousers. Then, she placed her hands on my shoulders and eased herself away from me.

‘Not now,’ she said, ‘not here.’ She gathered up her clothes. ‘I’ll phone you when I can.’

‘Beth!’ I groaned in frustration. ‘Wait a minute!’ I put my hand on her shoulder as she stooped to pull up her knickers. ‘I’m getting tired of this game. I want you. I thought you wanted me. Why can’t we get it on?’

Beth sighed. She wiggled her hips into her knickers, then sat behind her desk. ‘I’m sorry. I do want you. But when it comes to the crunch, I can’t be unfaithful to Darren.’

I rolled my eyes, trying to understand her definition of ‘unfaithful’. Then I had an idea. ‘Remember in one of our early sessions you talked to me about roll play and suggested it might help me and Gema.’

Beth leaned forward. She nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘And you remember one time when we were discussing sex you said you had a fantasy of being a whore and being picked up by a client.’

Beth smiled. Then she laughed. ‘That was a joke. People always say I behave like a nun, but I’ve got a whore’s mind and body.’

‘Well,’ I went on, ‘why don’t we use roll play to help us. You can become another person for the night – let’s call you Ruth – and I’ll pick you up as a client. I’ll arrange a hotel. Then we can spend the night together and share our desire.’

Beth paused. She was thinking and the suggestion of a smile on her face revealed that she liked the idea. ‘I’d have to think of an excuse to be away for the night…’

‘A conference…meeting up with old girlfriends…anything.’

The suggestion of a smile became a grin. Beth nodded. ‘Okay. You make the arrangements and we’ll do it.’

The next day, I made the arrangements. I would pick Beth-Ruth up on the fringe of the red-light district. She was to dress appropriately and I would pay for her service. I booked a hotel, Gema’s hotel. I knew from a mutual friend that she would be on duty that evening and I intended to show her that I had moved on.

I drove to the rendezvous point and found Beth-Ruth standing by the kerbside. She was dressed in a short coat, a plaid skirt – predominantly red – and red fishnet stockings. The skirt was short and she raised its hem to reveal the top of her stockings.

‘Can I give you a lift?’ I asked.

She nodded and climbed into my car. ‘My name’s Ruth. What’s yours?’

I thought for a moment. If we were going to play the game, then I had to invent a name. I said, ‘I’m Ruben.’

Ruth smiled. ‘Nice name.’

I glanced at her thighs. ‘Nice legs.’

She inched up her skirt to the top of her thighs, revealing her suspenders. ‘You want to see more?’

‘How much?’ I held out my wallet and Ruth removed a handful of notes. ‘I want everything,’ I added, and she removed a few more.

We drove to the hotel. At the desk, I made a point of attracting Gema’s attention. And, as I picked up the key for our bedroom, I patted Ruth on her behind, to leave Gema in no doubt – I was moving on.

I opened the bedroom door and we fell on to the bed, rolling around in our desire.

‘I want you!’ Ruth moaned as we tore each other’s clothes off. We were naked and I was sitting with my erect penis between Ruth’s cupped breasts. I was enjoying the sensation of our position when Ruth drew my attention to the bedframe. There were scratches on the frame, possibly caused through friction.

Ruth grinned. ‘Why don’t you tie me?’

I groaned. She was going to be worth every penny. I took hold of two pillowcases and lightly bound Ruth’s wrists to the bedframe. She was secure, my captive. She could not escape. Nothing could stop me now.

‘I want you,’ Ruth pleaded. ‘I need you.’ Her hips were gyrating and clearly, she was lost in the throes of passion. I wanted her, but I also wanted to enjoy the moment, so I kissed her neck and ears, her shoulders and her lips. Then I licked and sucked her nipples. She cried out with desire as I sucked her nipples, teasing their erection between my teeth. Then my lips traced a line down to her navel and, avoiding her pubic mound, on to her thighs. Her legs were free and she raised her hips to meet my touch as my lips softly caressed her inner thighs.

I was tempted to go lower, to kiss her calves, but my eye was drawn to her pubis. Invitingly, the folds of her labia glistened with her honey. I kissed her labia and tasted her salty-sweetness, then my tongue licked her pearl and she arched her back, pulled against her bonds, and let out a deep groan.

‘More, more, more!’ Ruth insisted, when I came up for air.

I was about to give her more, a whole lot more. I was about to give her my manhood when the hotel bedroom door opened and Gema appeared. She opened her mouth, then covered it with her hand. She gave me a green-eyed, desirous, envious look. She was jealous, I could tell from her frown and the two spots of red, burning on her cheeks.

Gema ran to the bed. She grabbed hold of my arm and scooped up my clothes. Then she pulled me from the hotel room into a cupboard where we made ardent, passionate love.

I felt a little guilty about leaving Ruth tied to the bed in that way, on the brink of orgasm and unable to satisfy herself. But I reflected that she’d left me in that position on at least two occasions.

After our cupboard copulation, Gema and I resumed our relationship. I tried to phone Beth-Ruth, but she wouldn’t accept my calls. I often wonder what might have happened, had we consummated our affair. And, sweet irony, Beth was right about Gema – jealousy did win her back. Did I owe the manner of the victory to Beth, did she set a trap? I don’t think so. I believe she had genuine feelings for me, but a twisted sense of loyalty to her estranged husband held her back. Maybe she should have talked with a relationship adviser…

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