Things had not been well between Haylee and her husband, John, for a while now. They had not been intimate for years. The reason they stayed together was for their children: they had two; Jamie, a little girl with her father’s eyes and her mother’s complexion, aged eleven; and Malcolm, a precocious eight-year-old who would grow up to be a well-loved comedian. Haylee introducing Looney Tunes to him at a young age had something to do with that.
John traveled for work, he was in IT and helped companies install and maintain their computer systems: he would be gone for weeks on end. His marriage mostly dissolved save for the piece of paper that legally bound them together, he strayed and felt no tinge of regret – being out of state made it simple to separate his home life from his road life. Haylee was not so lucky.
She stayed with the kids days and nights, her mother keeping an eye on them when she went to work. Haylee was a glassblower and had a mastery of the craft that would make her famous, if only she could pursue the skill the way her husband could pursue his. She worked in a little shop that made vases and cups and ashtrays, all decorative and unique, in hues of azure and lilac and sanguine. She was brilliant, with deep breaths and nimble hands, breath and hands that devoted her sexual energies into the work.
But she pined still and twinged, at Marko, a fellow glassblower, who sweat and glistened in the heat of the fire, whose dexterous and sturdy hands made Haylee wonder what they would feel like pressed against her hips longingly, desirously, pulling Haylee against him and pressing his lips to hers. She knew better though then to get involved with a coworker; she liked her job and worried that the relationship would sour and ruin it, that it might confuse her children if they saw Marko with her while their father was away, that she would get lost in Marko and that her relationship with her children would suffer – that above all kept her pangs of desire buried beneath the surface, exploding only in quiet serene baths Haylee would take after work, or laying in her empty bed drawing her desire out with her fingertips, moaning into the darkness and the silence.
But restraint was never Haylee’s greatest strong suit and it was one night after work that she went and had drinks with her coworkers. Marko was there and they struck up conversation, and the night grew long and others departed and the only bones left were the ones the two of them owned, which without an audience, intertwined, and they kissed passionately and pressed themselves against each other with the fires of desire brighter than the glowing hot glass they both worked with.
Worry and care were gone in the back of Marko’s car, and Marko exposed Haylee’s breasts to the night air and caressed them, cupped them, rolled nipples between fingertips and sent shudders of sensation coursing through Haylee – out her forehead and through her toes, the energy seemed to emanate and she sighed and groped at Marko’s pants and found his hardness and rubbed it, and Haylee took Marko’s member out from the zipper and sensuously stroked it, teased it with her tongue, and put it in her mouth.
Marko groaned into the cavern of his car and ached and throbbed and when his lust could barely be contained anymore, he tore off Haylee’s panties and licked and lapped at her womanhood. It swelled and her lips opened, wetness dripped down her lips as he lapped and licked and fingered her. And then he put her over the center console and slid himself inside her.
Their groans joined and their breaths mingled as the wetness engulfed him and they became one being. There was magic in their mingling and they lost themselves, unsure where Haylee began and Marko ended, and the energy they exchanged was powerful, all pent up sexuality exuded in each stroke inward, relief and longing with each stroke out. And it was hour-long minutes, time compressed for them, before they exploded together, sighing longly in exquisite agony and ecstasy, mutually found at the same time, Haylee’s climax feeding Marko’s.
And they lay there spent a moment before Haylee found herself again and was suddenly very self aware. Silently she found her panties and slipped them on, readjusted her breasts which had somehow found themselves protruding out her bra. She kissed Marko, thanked him but said that they probably shouldn’t do that again, that she would appreciate it if he kept it quiet that this had happened. He agreed to not divulge it to anyone and she kissed him again, with all the fire and fury that had bound them that night, a kiss that said a thousand goodbyes, and left then to amble to her car, sore from sex, for the long and quiet and contemplative drive home.