For the past week, same time, every day, I came to the same bench to eat my lunch and relax. He did, too. I tried to act as if I didn’t notice him, but that was impossible. How could I miss that good-looking sun-tanned face with kiss-me-all-night-long lips?
Although I pretended to read my book, the reality was that I read and reread the same page several times. Sitting so close to me, I couldn’t help but be aware of his presence. My nipples tightened just thinking of him smiling and paying attention to me. My heart beat faster and my pussy moistened, each time I wondered what it would feel like to be held in those strong-looking arms with taunt muscles that sculpted his black tee shirt sleeves.
How would it feel to have a kissing session with him, right there on the bench? Never much for public displays of affection, it surprised me that I wouldn’t mind making out with him for the world to see. I felt my face heat up. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t mind doing much more with him on that bench.
There was only one problem – We never acknowledged each other. Instead, he’d sit there and stare out into the traffic. His eyes were unfocused, his jaw set. What inner vision held him? What problem was he unraveling? Or was he working out the details of some brilliant plan? I imagined that he was a successful construction company owner, and his thoughts were full of spectacular construction plans. The day before, two women passing by, slowed down to give him the once over and tried to catch his eye. He didn’t seem to notice them. Minutes later, a well-dressed man passed by us and tried to do the same. Again, no reaction from my handsome friend.
I decided to stop pretending to read and a crazy thought came over me as I closed my book: Say something to him.
I snuck a peek at him. He stared straight into the distance, as if he wore blinders. Not a muscle did he move. Do it, girl! Say something! Anything! I took a deep breath and opened my mouth. Before I could get any words out, the unexpected happened.
Dear Reader: What do you think happened next?
Paz Edwards
August 11th, 2010 at 6:14 pm · Link
Silence.
The cacophony of city sounds–the revving engines, melange of conversations, horns, clatters, shouts–it was all gone.
I blinked and looked around. Odd currents skittered down my neck.
It wasn’t just the sounds that were gone.
The city was gone too. Everything was gone. Everything but him.
He stood in front of me, his gaze locked on mine. He didn’t seem to care about the pulsing volcanic fire that flickered around us, a foreign molten landscape that should have consumed us in its ferocity but for some reason left us unscathed.
Was it real?
I wanted to speak, wanted to ask him where we were, what had happened.
Was I hallucinating? Dreaming?
All I’d wanted to do was talk to him, and now we were alone, totally alone in a strangely benign inferno.
Was this hell? Had I been plucked from the city and deposited here as punishment for my erotic thoughts?
I licked my lips and opened my mouth.
His lips suddenly connected with my own, and I groaned as his tongue sought mine and slithered with it in a synchronistic sensuous rhythm.
I groaned. No, this wasn’t hell. I didn’t know where I was, but I didn’t care.
I pressed against him, and felt his hardness against my belly.
No, I didn’t care where we were. I didn’t care at all.
August 15th, 2010 at 12:20 am · Link
Hi Ande: I love this! I love what happens next, here.