It strains at the warm breath in front of it. It lifts as she lightly flicks her tongue at it. It disappears as she takes the full length into her mouth and down into her throat. He moans as she swallows against the tip of his cock, the guttural sound of her throat muscles working against his flesh drowning him out. She slowly releases him, chains of saliva hanging between his shaft and her ruby red lips. She collects them in her hand and spreads them over his dick and looks me squarely in the face."Your turn," she says matter-of-fact, still working the cock in her hand. For a brief second I contemplate whether she means it's my turn to receive or my turn to give.The ping of the lift signals my floor. I tell her, "Another time, perhaps," and back out of the elevator cab as she sighs her disappointment. The last thing I see of them is her full lips enveloping his cock-head as the lift doors shut.It's a few seconds of disbelief mixed with arousal before I can remember why I'm here.. It had never occurred to me either that Helen knew about Fran or that I might have lost some of my self-esteem. Ridiculously perhaps, I thought I’d got over Fran without much in the way of damage. Helen took my hand gently in hers. ‘Well?’ ‘I don’t know. I guess we never know, do we?’ Decisively, Helen said, ‘What about tomorrow night? Let’s meet here for a drink at 7? I’ve got a bit to do at school tomorrow afternoon. Then we can go on to that little Greek down by the canal?’ That ‘little Greek down by the canal’ was a well-known and rather posh place. I smiled and accepted. And so it was that at 7 on that Saturday I was at the club’s bar again, my hair tied loosely back, wearing a soft cotton dress in a mix of white and blue with dark blue heels and bare legs. Underneath? Well, let’s save that for later, if there is a later. Eva had been playing and came to the bar. She was drenched in sweat, her hair sticking to her face where it showed, unruly, beneath her hat, her shirt clinging.
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