She offered me some snacks, I moved ahead and took a piece. She asked why I am not sitting.It was around 5 pm and the workload was a bit less today. I...took a seat opposite her.We then spoke casual stuff, the stuff you make small conversations with, like where do you live? How do you commute? etc..She then asked me if I was single, I responded by explaining my recent breakup.I asked her the same, to which she said she was single. I started getting a hint that she was interested in me. But I. He immediately made friends at the table and scooted in to sit next to me. His wife had excused herself to the restroom. Amid introductions and a passing joke that had the table laughing I felt his strong hand press against my tummy through my shirt as he leaned close to my ear. The touch seemed normal, if a little intimate, but what he said immediately unleashed butterflies in my stomach and down through my toes: "You look delicious. Fuck this, meet me in the restroom in 5 minutes. If I. This is the vagina, my technical bookwormery told me. But then all technicality and naming of parts were forgotten as the thought of what I was doing, and what her mouth was doing to me, took over.I feared I would burst once again in her mouth, everything was so intense. But at that point she pulled her mouth away from my cock and almost screamed, “Get it into me, Danny. Into me. Quick. Quick." And she pushed frantically at my hips to turn me again and I scrambled around to lie between her. We took the champagne with us into the bedroom and, about three o’clock in the afternoon, when we were both getting a little famished after all of the bedroom gymnastics, I opened the Christmas hamper that my aunt had sent me and we had a picnic of Melton Mowbray pork pie and cheeses and ham and pickles and brandy-steeped mince pies. I didn’t see Zara again on that particular visit. We exchanged a couple of brief telephone calls, but that was it. And then, with Zara back in New York and me with.