Sideways

“Come by my apartment after work. Just so we can talk privately,” I read the email and immediately knew that Andrew didn’t want to just “talk privately.” Since our intense break room make-out session, we had been dancing around sex. I want it. Damn, do I want it. I want it in the bathroom, I want it in the backseat of my car, I want it on my desk; I just want him to fuck me sideways. He wants it too. But something keeps me dancing around it.

I’m divorced. I know, dirty word. Thirty and divorced is not sexy. It’s borderline pathetic. At least, that’s how everyone looks at me during the office parties full of husbands and wives. “Aww, look at Victoria, she looks great tonight. Let’s go sit with her so she isn’t the only single because...(under her breath) she’s divorced.” I can see the shudders from where I sit each time. I smile, say “I’m fine” and “No, I don’t want to date your brother/cousin/best friend/neighbor/son, but thank you.”

I think that’s why I avoided jumping on Andrew. He would be my first tumble in the sheets since my divorce, meaning, the first man besides my ex-husband since I was 18 years old. I was scared of unleashing what I had suppressed for so long...being fucked the way I really wanted. Being fucked sideways.

When I hit reply, I knew I couldn’t turn back. “I’ll be there at five,” and SEND.

My hands were sweating at 4:58 and I went to the bathroom to make sure my panties were not soaking wet from sweat or any other moisture-causing situation. I checked my breath, my hair, whether or not I shaved the back AND front of my legs and then realized I had on my Spanx. Fuck. So not sexy. I figured I’d slip in his bathroom for a final once over and take them off before he noticed.

I parked in the space allotted for a guest to his apartment, wondering the last time someone parked in this space expecting him to make her cum like I did. I checked in the mirror, I freshened my breath once more and started my way towards his floor. I paused at his front door, willing myself to knock but knowing I should have turned for the hills.

I knocked, he quickly opened with a look of burning desire in his deep, brown eyes. As soon as I crossed the threshold, his hands were in my hair, his lips on my neck and he had me against the wall working at my shirt buttons with his free hand. Shit. The Spanx. He looked up when he reached the stretchy material and said, “Hmm, a challenge. This won’t keep me from getting inside of you.” My whole body woke up and although my panties were dry before, they sure as hell weren’t now. He pulled at the material and next I knew his fingers were inside of me (as promised) reaching for the spot to make me squirm. My hands wrestled with his zipper and within seconds I had his thickness in my grasp. I was pleasantly surprised and even more wet than before. He was impressive. I was on fire. I felt I could melt away in a puddle at any moment, but hoped I wouldn't before I could release all of my stress into him.

His body was soft but strong, he smelled amazing but not like cinnamon from our first encounter, it was a more earthy smell, mixed with sweat and passion. I was completely undone and I knew I wouldn't ever get enough. I could only hope he would satisfy me as I needed and wanted for so long.

My ex-husband was not a lover. He was a confidant, a friend, a listener and an asshole. But a lover, was not him. Sex was mediocre, at best. It was routine and boring. I waited until he was finished to go into the bathroom and finish myself off. It was depressing but normal for my life. The way I was panting during this moment, I knew he would finish me off without any issues.

He grabbed me and tossed me on the bed, fighting my clothes onto the floor and lapping every inch of my sex with his tongue before slamming into me until I screamed with pleasure. It was short and succulent and the first of many great fucks provided by him. I was gloriously happy and finally realized what it felt like to be truly fucked sideways.