After our first meet, we returned to our respective homes. Lisa to her husband who knew, and who eagerly asked her for all the details of our meet, and I do my wife, who didn't. I was surprised at how easy it was to fit back into home life and about how good I felt. I had gained a completely new confidence but was careful not to show it.
All the same, I missed her. We mailed as before, we reminisced about our day together and we felt far closer than we had intended at the outset.
"You know we're going to have to meet again"
The realisation hit both of us on the same day and was aired almost simultaneously. I couldn't live without touching her skin again. The smoothest skin I had ever touched, like pure silk of the very finest quality. I was forgetting exactly how her eyes had looked as they had admired me in my nakedness and I missed, oh how I missed the feeling of her wet, soft sex around mine. Soft, yet strong and tight, and the taste of her under my lips and tongue.
I thought, but not for very long.
I know a place in Austria. You'll like it. I even have a friend there who will accept you. I don't want you to be a dirty secret, I want so much to to show you off, to walk the streets with you and kiss you openly, in public.
She asked her husband and I made a new excuse.
We met at a connecting airport.
I hid from her and asked her to find me, but I hid a little too well and she had to send a text message:
"Come out from wherever you're hiding!"
This time, no colleagues, but we were nervous. We found a secluded lounge area, embraced and kissed for what was probably half an hour but felt like a few short seconds. I had an enormous, wet bulge in my trousers and I could see from the way she was sitting that she had similar tension waiting to be released. We put our overcoats over our laps and I unzipped her jeans and felt her wetness, So incredibly smooth, so warm and inviting. my fingers almost being sucked into her slippery, tight but so very elastic opening as her pelvic trusts met my stroking and rubbing. I tasted her juices. Feeling inside her was like coming home. She came, twice and rather noisily.
I so wanted her to do the same for me, but didn't want the mess. Our gate was called.
On the plane, our bodies pressed together, she started to breathe heavily again and I could see her hand moving under our overcoats. She gave a stifled little cry, then another, then looked at me naughtily and whispered that sometimes there are one or two more in there and she likes to let them out herself. Far from feeling jealous or disappointed, I was so happy to be with such a wonderful, sexy being. One hundred percent woman who could make me feel one hundred percent man.
We arrived, hired a car and drove, her hand in my trousers, to our hotel. What happened there belongs in the next part of my story.
