I’ve told my friends and family about her and she told her friends and family about me. This is something we truly think is right. When they announce the train is here, I go to where we talked about meeting. I made sure to buy her roses, even though she insisted I didn’t need to. I know how to treat my girl. When she walks up towards me from the double doors, where the train was, her smile is from ear to ear. I can’t help but quickly move towards her. I want to break the distances between us. We wrap our arms around each other, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. As if it’s something we’ve done dozens of times before. I move to kiss her, not even thinking of moving slowly. I need to taste her. She kisses me back with just as much need. After a long moment, okay, several moments, we break the kiss. I see her getting slightly emotional and I hold her closer to me. I whisper into her ear that everything is all right now. We’re together. When we head to my place, I make her. Anne removed hers at the same time and in a second they were in each others’ arms, kissing passionately, deeply. For a few minutes they made out like teenagers in the front of Stan’s Mondeo before he pulled back and murmured, just loud enough for Anne to hear, ‘I don’t know which is more uncomfortable at the moment, the gear lever or the handbrake.’ Anne pouted as he pulled away, but then smiled at his words. ‘I have a door key,’ she reminded him, ‘and there’s a bed upstairs, remember?’ They didn’t get as far as the bed. Once inside the door, Anne pushed Stan against the wall, one hand playing with the buttons on his shirt and the other questing at his fly. Her mouth crushed against his, and he kissed her back eagerly. Stan was amazed. He’d never known Anne so eager. Even earlier that day, when she’d pulled her panties aside while bent over the chair, she’d been less horny than now. Anne’s left hand slid inside his shirt, having undone two of his buttons. Stan moaned as her fingers.
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