And this is how it starts….

Inspired by “Sex” by The 1975, for The September Song Project

I could smell her perfume, floral and fresh. It filled the air in my van like a thousand sweet bouquets. It was so her. Her scent. The scent that had been insidiously whispering into my psyche for months, building a hold over me as it invaded my dreams and drove me steadily insane.

I hadn’t expected her to call tonight. She was supposed to be on a date with him. The boyfriend. That lucky fucking bastard. But when she’d arrived at the station, she’d got a phone call telling her that something had come up and he had to bail. So she called me, her friend, and suggested we hang out for a bit, have a drink or something before she caught a return train home. I’d jumped at the chance to see her, wondering what kind of daft prick would turn down any opportunity to simply spend a few glorious minutes in her presence. He doesn’t deserve a girl like her.

We had a few drinks, which became dinner at an Italian chain restaurant, then a walk along the South Bank. I told her not to worry about the train; I’d drop her home. Cambridgeshire isn’t so far from London and I hadn’t drunk too much, so I was fine to drive.

The whole length of the M11, all I could think about was kissing her. She was talking about sex, being kind of cheeky and saucy, and I could feel my cock twitching in my jeans. Was she flirting? Or was she just teasing? Maybe she just didn’t know how much I wanted her. How much it was hurting me to be in such close proximity to her knowing that she had a boyfriend and I couldn’t touch her.

Damn me for being so fucking moral. Why couldn’t I just take the next exit, pull the car over and kiss her? Would she let me? Would she kiss me back? Could I actually do it, could I be that guy? Probably not. I didn’t have the guts. And what would be the point?

She’s got a boyfriend, anyway.

I felt the brush of her hand on my thigh all of a sudden.

What the hell?

“Are you never going to misbehave?” she murmured. “You’re such a good boy all the fucking time.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her lower her head towards me. I lifted my left hand off the steering wheel, almost swerving into the next lane as she nuzzled her face in my crotch. My cock surged with blood, and as her soft fingers pulled my zipper down and drew out my throbbing member, I gulped hard and kept my eyes peeled for the nearest exit. All I wanted, all I’d wanted for months was this, her mouth, her touch, her close to me.

“I know she’s got a boyfriend,” I told the repetitive voice in the back of my head. “But for tonight, at least, I’ve got the opportunity to fill his shoes.”

Who could really blame me for taking it?

Now we’re just outside of town

And you’re making your way down

She’s got a boyfriend, anyway.

She’s got a boyfriend, anyway.

And I’m not trying to stop you, love.

But if we’re gonna do anything we might as well just fuck.

She’s got a boyfriend, anyway.

She’s got a boyfriend, anyway.