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Her husband is away for work when the architectural firm contacts him for an update. They can finally schedule him in. The firm was in high demand, due to their experience and their unique ideas, and he had requested to be put on the list six months ago.

They could do next Friday. The architect would need the full day to gather the information he needed. He wouldn’t be home for another few weeks. But his wife would be there and they could call with any questions on the property.

She wasn’t happy.

“I am supposed to argue a case that day,” she said.

“Can Jen do it?”

“Yeah, she can. But it’s my baby. I put the work in and I really want to stick it to this guy.”

“But they said if we passed on this appointment, it’d be another six months. You want that addition, right? The master suite with the windows from floor to ceiling, overlooking the lake.”

“I do. You know, I do. I just wish you could take care of it.”

“I do too.”

She agreed to make herself available for the architect’s appointment. That was that.

He was still in Japan and the time difference was killer for their communication. They had been having quick calls before one or the other fell asleep. Once, over a weekend, they had had phone sex. They hadn’t tried it again. It didn’t work for them. She was a visual person and so she couldn’t put herself in the right mood, but she kept at it, until he came. He was a cuddler, and so the lack of touch from his partner left for a lot to be desired. It took the edge off, kind of. But neither brought it up again.

The morning of their appointment, she went for a short run on her treadmill and then did some yoga. She stripped off her clothes and ran a hot bath. The snow was falling outside. She opened the blinds and watched it blanket the grass. She stayed warm in the tub until she had to get out and put on some clothes. She chose a dark brown sweater dress and paired it with knee-high boots and some necklaces. She did her hair and makeup, not for the architect, but in case she had to conference in to Jen or any of the staff. She always put her best forward at work.

She went to the kitchen and made herself a smoothie from a banana, kale, strawberries, and Greek yogurt. As she finished her breakfast, the doorbell rang. She let the architect in. She was surprised by his appearance. In her mind, architects looked like goofy TV dads. Mr. Brady or Ted Mosby. He looked more like a running back. He was tall, with a broad, muscular chest, twice the width of her shoulders. His fleece was a dark blue, embroidered with his firm’s logo. He wore khakis that fit him well. She caught a peek of his body, head-to-toe, and nodded to herself, with a wry smile.

“I briefly looked around outside,” he said after a few minutes of following her room to room. “I’m going to do some measuring, and then check out the basement. I’ll be a while.”

“OK, if you need anything, just let me know. bursa eskort I’ll be in the office, next to the kitchen.”

“Actually, do you have any coffee?”

She noted the impropriety. People who come to someone’s house to do work should not be asking for anything. But he smiled and she felt unusual. She liked him. He was very attractive. She pushed that feeling down. It was useless.

“Sure, cream and sugar?”

“That would be perfect.”

He followed her in to the kitchen and stood by the island while she popped a pod into her brewer. A moment later, he sipped the coffee, while she looked at her phone.

“Busy day,” he said.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to be arguing a case in court. But my husband asked me to be here. He’s in Japan on business.”

“Oh… Japan, nice. How long has he been there?”

“Three months.”

“Long time,” he said.

“He says he’ll be back soon though,” she said this more to reassure herself.

“I’ve been to Japan. We did work on a tower in Tokyo. A cool place. I never saw anything like it.”

“That’s what he says.”

The architect took a final sip of the coffee and put the cup down. He thanked her again and then went off to start his list of tasks. As he climbed the steps, he couldn’t shake the woman from his mind. She looked really good. That dress hug her body, which he could tell that she took care of. He was no stranger to a gym either. And as she went into her office and closed the door, she thought about those arms, that chest, the way he was so much bigger than she was. Her narrow frame. She imagined him on top of her, holding her down. She wondered what he looked like naked. He was strong and she knew he would look good. What was he working with? Was there any truth to stereotypes?

She had never been with a black man before. She had no knowledge of what they were like because she had only dated her husband. She knew what was floating around out on the internet, but she didn’t believe anything out there. She also didn’t want to give any weight to any kind of stereotypes of anyone.

She didn’t like where this was going though, and turned on her laptop. She had some paperwork to sign. She would let him do his thing.

He knocked an hour later.

“Sorry to bother you,” he said. “I need to look at the windows in there.”

“Oh, no problem. I’ll just grab some water. Want anything?”

“Nope, all good.”

When she returned, he was writing something in his notebook. He made a sketch of the room and then put the notebook down while he measured the floor and two steps up into the kitchen. His phone rang.

She sat back down at her desk and half-listened to his conversation. It sounded like he was discussing a job with his boss. She noticed his notebook and flipped a few pages to look at their house. A few pages more, another house. Some nice pictures. Above them was a quote. She recognized it as Fitzgerald. A few more pages and another bursa escort house, Austen? A Bronte? Hardy? She wasn’t sure. Someone from that era. Her house had no quote. But she wondered what it meant. Was he a reader? The picture of him in her mind started to become more vibrant and yet clouded. What kind of man reads books these days? She read, but it was mostly romance and fantasy. Her husband read comics and the stock pages, online only. Plus, a guy who works out and reads old-timey books and is smart enough to be an in-demand architect? A modern day Da Vinci.

He returned.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said.

“No worries.”

“So,” she decided to just ask. “what are the quotes in your notebook?”

“You saw that? Ha ha. When I am on a project, sometimes I have a moment of inspiration for it. I’ll go home and look up the quote it made me think of and then I write it down quickly, before I forget it.

“You read?”

“Yeah, I do. It’s how I unwind.”

“Don’t guys our age play video games to unwind? Or go throw axes?”

“I guess. That’s not fun for me. I live in my head. I like to dream.”

“I can understand that. I read sometimes. What’s your favorite?”

“I don’t have one really. But right now, I’m reading a ton of sci-fi.”

“Is my house going to have wings or space-windows?”

“Ha! No. I wouldn’t do that to you. What are space windows?

“You know, like portholes or something.”

“None of those, I promise. What do you like to read?”

“Fantasy, mostly.”

As they discussed a few books she had been reading, she started to warm up to the architect. He had read some of the same books, felt the same way, and she found herself wanting to be his friend. But friendship and business shouldn’t meet.

“Would you like some lunch?”

“I have a lot to do.”

“It won’t take long. I’ll order some soup from the place around the corner. Soup sounds really good today, doesn’t it?”

“OK, I’ll have some.”

And so they shared lunch. She felt an increasing attraction to him, which he was becoming aware of. He took his bowl to the sink and as he turned around, he bumped into her. His solid frame made her body feel like she was in an echo.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be. Can I show you the upstairs?”

He took her meaning and raised an eyebrow. She nodded and took him by the hand. Her warmth, small and dainty hand in his, thick, rough, and vein-riddled. She led him upstairs and to her bedroom where she unzipped his fleece and pulled it off of his shoulders. Her hands ran down his arms and she felt her body tingling.

He pulled her to him and she felt the bulge of his manhood against her stomach. She leaned into to him more and felt him begin to harden as he kissed her. His left hand was around her waist, and the other behind her head.

She pushed him back a little and undid his belt and zipper, dropping his pants to bursa escort bayan the floor. She slipped her hand into his boxers and found his cock. She stroked him, making him harder by the second, and then pulled it out of his underwear. She looked down and her eyes went wide.

It had felt larger than her husbands but seeing it was a different thing. It was the size of her forearm, and just as wide. The contrast in color between her hands rubbing his black cock turned her on. She got on her knees, tripping as she stumbled over his pants. She looked up, and he looked down at her as she re-oriented herself. His balls dangled above her chin, his cock massive compared to her face. She popped one of his balls in her mouth and stroked him. He moaned and that drove her wild. She hadn’t made another man moan in… well, ever.

He reached down and took hold of her shoulders, lifting her up and looked down into her eyes. In one movement, he gripped her hips, her dress, and pulled it up and over her head, while spinning her onto the bed. She braced her hands on the white comforter, grabbing a pillow and shoving it into her mouth as he entered her. Her screams were quieted. He grabbed her hips and drove down into her, over and over. Her body shaking with tremors at every thrust. He wasn’t moving fast, at first. Just firm, hard, thrusts. As he felt her body loosening up, he increased his ferocity. Her hair came undone, her breasts brushing the bedding, her nipples extremely sensitive.

He took her arms and pulled them back, using her strong upper body to pull against. She felt him inside, stuffing her full, to overflowing.

“I need to turn over,” she said as she looked back at him.

He let go and she spun herself around, all while still on his cock, and wrapped her legs behind his back. As he slammed into her, his balls slapping her skin, his smooth skin pressing into her clit, his cock inside, stretching her, she felt herself getting close. Her pussy was tighter now.

Her hands went to his chest. She felt the thick muscle there which turned her on even more. He took her hands in his and then pushed them into the bed above her head. She was now helpless before him, at his mercy as he continued to fuck her. He showed no mercy now. His hips were like a sledgehammer. Heavy hitting.

She squirmed and arched her back as he took her to orgasm and she couldn’t do anything but feel it. She couldn’t stop him. She didn’t want to.

And then, she was done. The waves were subsiding. Her pussy tightened around him. He released her hands and moved his back to her hips as he kept fucking her.

“Oh, fuck,” he said.

He tried to pull back, but she hooked her ankles together and pulled him tight into her. She was strong too, and wouldn’t let him pull out.

He came and shot his load into her. She felt her body filling up.

Then she let go.

“It’s OK. I’m on the pill,” she said. “And I wanted to feel it happen.”

He pulled out. His cock was glistening. Her pussy was sore, bright red, and leaking spoonfuls of cum. He sat beside her.

“Stay the weekend,” she said.

“I can’t. I have to finish this.”

“Finish it here.”

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