A/N: This chapter is a definitely M rated, (adult activity).


Harry can barely breathe. She is watching him, her eyes on his mouth.

He holds her eyes with his, while his fingers turn under her hand, and one finger slides through the opening in her shirt. She understands what he wants, and removes her hand, giving him freedom to move. It is awkward to move his right hand under her shirt, so he removes it, and turns his body slightly, and replaces his right with his left. His eyes never leave hers. His fingers explore the soft skin under her shirt, while Ruth makes it easier for him by opening a few buttons. Not all of them. It is more arousing for him to have to slide his fingers between closed buttons.

They still watch one another while Harry's finger reaches her nipple, and gently and slowly moves around it and then over it. Once the nipple is fully erect, he moves his hand to her other nipple.

Meanwhile, Ruth's hand is on his thigh, gliding up and down his leg over the fabric of his trousers, her fingers curved into his inner thigh, where his skin is tender and sensitive. After a few minutes of slow and sensuous movement from knee to upper thigh, she moves her hand high enough so that when she reaches out with her finger, she can glance her fingertip across his erection, now stretching his trousers in the front. As Harry's hand moves across Ruth's stomach, from left to right, and then down to the waistband of her skirt, Ruth lifts his shirt from his trousers, and glides her own hand across the expanse of his stomach and chest, scraping his nipples with a fingernail, so that he gasps.

Neither are sure how long they can keep this up without taking it further. They haven't yet kissed, and they both know that as soon as they do, things will surely speed up dramatically.

They both want this to speed up.

They both want it to continue as it is.

Ruth has opened all the buttons on Harry's shirt, and she has caressed his chest and stomach all over. She wants to undo his trousers, and explore further there, but that wouldn't be fair, not if they are not about to take this to the bedroom. They are just exploring one another's skin. Aren't they?

Ruth's fingers feather across his chest once more, and then she explores his throat, his neck, his chin, his lips. He opens his mouth so that her fingers are caught between his teeth.

Harry has lowered the zipper of Ruth's skirt, so that his hand can slide down further, to the waistband of her knickers. He closes his eyes as she runs her fingers down his chin to his throat, and his own fingers slip under her knickers, and edge towards her heat, his palm pressing against her lower abdomen. He knows that it would take very little on his part to bring her to orgasm. Her breathing is heavy, and her pupils dilated.

Herein lies another turning point for them. He pulls his hand out of her knickers, and very slowly edges away from her. As he does so, her eyes widen.

"Ruth," he says, very quietly. "I want this to continue, and I think you know what I mean by that. I need to tell you that if you don't want this like I do, then I'm prepared to stop now, get dressed, and go home. The truth for me is that I'll stop now, if that's what you want. If we continue like this, there will come a time when I won't be able to stop. And if and when we continue, we will be making love – not fucking, but making love. This means everything to me, as I hope it does for you. There will be no going back from this."

Although he is no longer touching her, her hand cups his chin, and her gaze takes in his eyes, his bare chest and stomach, his arousal within his trousers, and the fact that he is still wearing shoes and socks. He waits as Ruth thinks, and then formulates her answer. He is used to this, because this is also what she does at work; she weighs and measures, and mulls things over.

"My head says we should stop this now, and have our second dinner before we go any further."

"I think we're a long way past that second dinner, Ruth."

She nods, her eyes on his lips. "I think so too. It's not as though we don't know one another, because we do." She takes a breath before she continues. "My heart and my body wants us to make love, Harry. I now know that this is what I've always wanted with you. It will mean the same for me as it does for you. I've been afraid …..."

"Of me?"

"God no. I've been afraid to …... let myself go when I'm with you, but now I don't even know why. I'm enjoying this so much …... loving it …... loving …..."

She stumbles on the word, loving, and he knows what she is unable to say. He won't prompt her. One day, hopefully soon, they'll both feel able to say how they feel about the other. Right now may not be the time.

Harry opens his mouth as if to speak, but Ruth covers it with her fingers. "I haven't finished what I wanted to say. I want us to make love, Harry. Now. Tonight. If we don't, we might never make the time for us again. I have a request, though, and I hope you won't think me strange. I've had this fantasy ever since I bought this sofa …..."

He immediately knows what she is about to say, and he smiles widely at her. She keeps her palm over his mouth, and he gently nips her skin with his teeth.

"I know my bed would be more comfortable, but I'd really like us to make love here, on this sofa."

She has no sooner finished speaking than Harry leans over her, and kisses her. It begins as a soft, exploratory kiss, and soon becomes passionate and deep, and they each want much more of the other. Ruth is pushed back against the cushions at one end of the sofa, and Harry lies partly covering her, partly beside her, grinding his erection into her thigh as he seeks her tongue with his own. Ruth winds her arm around his neck, while with her free hand she attempts to undo Harry's trousers. One of his hands massages her breast, now fully exposed, while his other holds her cheek, his fingers entangled in her hair.

They keep kissing, occasionally stopping to draw breath, but they go back to it with more passion, more fervour, all the time the fire building in their lower bodies. Despite being focused on kissing Ruth, Harry has managed to kick off his shoes, and remove his socks with his toes. His attention is on kissing her. He has longed to kiss her like this for so long, he feels he has a lot of catching up to do – four years of it, in fact. He is barely aware of Ruth's hand, opening his trouser buttons, and lowering his zipper, and then sliding inside his underwear to take hold of him, and then release him from his clothing. He is aware of her fingers on him, and then he feels bare skin of a different kind. He gasps deep in his throat with the sheer joy of having her take care of him in that way.

Ruth has managed to push down his trousers and trunks so that his buttocks are free to the air. She has also pulled down her skirt. All this has been going on while he's been kissing her, and loving her breasts with his hands. She has moved her legs so that he is lying between them, and although they are still lip-locked, their passion high, tongues exploring open mouths, his penis is rubbing against the skin if her inner thigh, and he is inching closer to her heat.

"Christ," he says, barely aware of what he is doing. He is acting on instinct, his libido having taken over. As usual, Ruth has had to take charge of things, to ensure this operation goes as planned. As usual, he is having to rely upon Ruth's superior organisational skills.

Reluctantly, Harry lifts his head from hers, and looks at her. Her lips are swollen, and her hair is everywhere. Unknown to him, he has been running his fingers through it. "You are so beautiful," he breathes, his voice husky with passion.

He returns to kissing her, and his hand finds her knickers, and he pulls the material aside to allow his fingers access to her hot and moist skin. He gently rubs across her folds, and then dips two fingers inside her. Hearing her gasp, he does it again. And again.

"I'm ready for you," she breathes, and he sees that her eyes are closed.

He also wants to be inside her. Now. There is no time to remove her knickers, so he pulls them to one side, and slides inside her, into her heat, moist, enveloping, drawing him in slowly, as far as he can reach. When he is inside her he stops.

"What's wrong?" she whispers against his ear.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong. Just trying …... to make …... this last," he gasps, before he begins moving.

They don't last very long. The material of her knickers moves against Ruth's body in a way that she reaches climax very quickly, and Harry, unable to hold back any longer, follows her over the edge. They fall together, gasping and smiling and totally, totally in love and lust and longing with each other.

It seems to be a long time before their breathing returns to normal.

"My bed is upstairs," Ruth whispers in his ear. "Can you manage that?"

He nods, lifting his head and smiling at her. Ruth has never seen Harry looking so contented, his face muscles relaxed.

They climb the stairs together, strip off all their remaining clothing, and crawl under the duvet to sleep, their limbs entangled, smiles still on their lips.