I swear I will come up for a better title for this. Or not.

The night we met, I wasn’t even considering sex. I had come pounding on Betty and Brian’s door, tearful over dysfunctional family crap, after finding my own alcohol supply completely empty. Betty settled me on her couch with a large glass of something Long Island like, and withdrew with Brian into the bedroom for a few moments.

I only saw the man on the balcony after I sucked down half the drink. At first, I thought him a hallucination or ghost, and in my alcohol driven state, decided my best bet was confrontation.

Ethan made a tall ghost, his six foot five figure silhouetted against the foggy October night. A cloud of steam around his head turned out to be a cigarette.

“Are you real?” I asked, and poked him once in the shoulder.

He stared down at my finger, resting on his arm. “Yes, quite.” He half-smiled as he took a drag of his cigarette.

“I’m J,” I introduced myself.

“I know who you are,” he said. “I heard Brian and Betty talking about you.”

“Normally I’m only mildly psychotic.” I smiled with some regret. “Great first impression I make.”

Ethan grinned at this, and offered me a drag. I took it, even though normally I don’t smoke. I noticed that he smoked a Pall Mall, rather than the usual Marlboro. This made me like him. Also, his smile suggested lots of sexy things going on in his mind.

He also had one thing that always gets me: lean hips. They make my clit tingle. I could imagine grabbing those hips as he thrust into me. His ass was the perfect shape for clenching in your palm or anchoring yourself when riding him up and down.

That night, I finished his cigarette, and my drink - and then I went home and played with myself half the night.

I can’t remember the last time I wanted to fuck a man so badly. There was no romance to my fantasy. I just wanted Ethan to drag me into the bathroom at the reception hall, kiss me so hard I couldn’t breathe and run those delightfully long fingers under my dress before jamming his fingers into my pussy. I wanted him to rub my clit with his thumb while I bit his shoulder to muffle my screams as I came.

I knew from his slow, patient demeanor and that devilish twinkle in his eye that he was the sort to bring a woman slowly, because the squirming gave him just as much pleasure as the ride.

He would get out of his lucky lady every shiver, mewl and orgasm he could before finally bring that wonderful, oversize cock to her body. Christ and Fate and Vegan Jebus, I wanted him to have exactly that way with me.

 The catch, of course, is that nothing between us could ever be casual. I don’t do one-nighters no matter how much a man makes my clit twitch. Ethan’s slow deliberation meant evaluation of heart and mind – as well as body. We might not aim for forever, but the time we had would mean more than just a one-off fuck. We also shared too many people in common to be open about any affair we might have. While he and I were on the same page about sex and morality, we were surrounded by convention and no matter who consented to what in private, the people we loved expected to do right as they defined it, not as we did. My husband was fine with erotic dalliance in theory - but I’d never tested it. And my best friend, Ethan’s sister-to-be, was of a very traditional mind when it came to me defiling future family members.