Then there was the time that we pretended not to know each other when we met at the bar. She likes being seduced, but when you’ve had regular sex for several months, even the most determined seduction starts to feel forced.

So her boyfriend decided that he was going to give her a treat and allow her to be seduced at the bar by some unsuspecting, random stranger. Little did he know that she’d been seduced by me long ago. We haven’t really done anything yet. But we talk a good line.

The beautiful thing about no sexual contact is that it prolongs the seduction. I’m not dumb enough to believe that she’d settle for me. She’s like a junkie when it comes to these things. Who can blame her, really?

But this time – just this once – it was arranged by her man, which meant that I got to present the public face of anonymity for the benefit of their relationship. Sometimes, we have to make sacrifices for the people in our lives.

I’d been extensively briefed and knew enough about her likes and dislikes to be able to put on a good show. I also knew that she had planned to meet me in the back of the bar for a quickie. After all, that would make the seduction that much more convincing, wouldn’t it? But that was later.

When she walked in, I was instantly hard. She didn’t start talking to me, but she did choose the empty barstool next to me. Thankfully, her boyfriend was across the room, watching us with an almost casual disdain. That gave me plenty of room to maneuver.

“How are you doing tonight?” I asked her, almost casually.

“Not too bad,” she said.

She didn’t have a drink, so I offered to buy her one. I’m a gentleman like that. She accepted and asked me my name, which she already knew. But we were acting, so we acted.

We talked for a bit and, at an appropriate point (one drink in for her, two for me), I reached my hand down and ran the tips of my fingers up her calves.

“Do you always do that to strange women?” she asked.

“Only when I know they’ll like it,” I said.

“How do you know I’d like it?”

“I can see it in your eyes,” I said.

She closed her eyes and sighed, a sound that could have almost been a moan.

“Should I kiss you yet?”

“No,” she exhaled. My fingers never left her skin. “Sssoon, though.”

“Why don’t I make that determination?” I said. My fingers made a deft twist into the hollow under her knee. She could only nod in agreement.

With my hand placed very firmly on her bare knee, I leaned in and gave her a light kiss on her cheek. I pulled back and looked at her face. Her eyes were still closed. I leaned in again and brushed her lips, barely touching them. When I pulled back, her head followed mine, a neat trick considering that her eyes were still closed.

“Now?” I whispered, the air from my voice moving across her cheekbone.

She nodded slightly. I wasted no time and gave her a kiss full across the lips. It started dry and, as my tongue moved towards her, it became much, much wetter.

She pulled back at the height of the passion and breathed deep. “Touch my thigh,” she said.

I didn’t look down, but I knew she was wearing a skirt. Bearing in mind the quickie we had scheduled for later, I wondered what else she was wearing. I slid my hand up her leg and, as I did, she moved her legs apart for me until my hand was resting on her pubic mound. I probably don’t have to tell you that I was more than a little amused (and aroused) to note that she wasn’t wearing panties.

I chuckled and moved my hand so that my fingers could go to work on her.

“Not here,” she said as my index finger found her clit.

“No?” I didn’t move my hand.

“No,” she said, swallowing hard. She got up and made her way towards the back.

I gave her a few minutes and, hiding my erection as best I could, I followed suit. I found her in the back, in the shadowy corner that held the telephone. I’d been to the bar last week to scout locations for just this moment and, in the process, I discovered that the light over the phone could be very easily turned off. As I followed her into the corner, I reached out and cut off the light, plunging the already shadowy corner into almost complete darkness. The last time I was there, I’d wondered how many other people had used this corner for this same purpose. The number was about to increment by one.

In the darkness, I pushed her skirt back until it was nothing more than a thick belt around her waist. My hands moved around her thighs until my thumbs found her wet labia, which I pulled apart so my right thumb could find her clit more easily.

Her hands were on the waist of my pants, opening them and pulling them down. She fished my cock out and rolled a condom onto it so I could press it into her. Even through the latex, I could feel how wet she was and that only made me hotter.

It was a short fuck, all things considered. We didn’t have time to linger over the finer points of technique, but neither of us really cared. She was perched on a slim shelf at the back of the alcove, held up between the friction of the skirt bunched around her and my hip pushing rhythmically into her. When she came, she screamed into my neck and I came not long after.

I pulled out and cleaned myself off while she pulled her skirt down and walked back to the bar. Once again, I followed soon after. We talked for a few minutes more, rehashing the private moment we’d just shared. I wondered if her boyfriend knew what we’d done, but I also knew that it was best not to ask. Not here, not now.

When she’d finished her second drink, she stood up and thanked me for my hospitality. I nodded and watched her leave the bar. Her boyfriend wasn’t far behind.

We’ve talked a few more times since then, but we haven’t made any serious plans yet. Both of us really enjoyed ourselves, that much I’m sure of. What I don’t know is which of us is more reluctant to meet at this point: her or me. Only time will tell.