Monday, May 17th, 2010
Waiting for the crosswalk sign to change, she forced herself to keep her feet still and deliberately slowed her breathing. She gave herself instructions: Watch the light, but don’t stare at it; drop the shoulders. There, the picture of calm. Several seconds passed. Her fingers began to dance over her purse strap. She clenched her teeth, looked at her watch and her thoughts drifted towards him.
She couldn’t wait to see him.
When was the light going to change? She took a step forward and the blare of a car horn sounded as a car warned her not to cross and whizzed past, dangerously close to her. She took a step backwards.
Glancing around, her eyes glossed over other pedestrians bundled up their winter clothing. Despite the freezing weather, she was burning up. It wasn’t because of her favorite warm red coat, hat or her knee high boots. Instead, mere thoughts of him overheated her body so that she wanted to rip off her clothing. A flame flickered in her aching pussy, spreading to her needy breasts, and then traveled over her body.
She couldn’t wait to feel his commanding cock inside of her, stretching her, thrusting slowly and deeply into her, then hard and fast until she cried out his name, wrapping the simple vowels and consonants with such exultation that his name sounded almost transcendent and climaxed convulsively, her vaginal muscles grasping, clutching, claiming him, unwilling to let him go … until release overcame her and every part of her body slipped into another dimension, a fluid dimension in which she felt she could float forever.
Clutching the bag hanging on her right shoulder closer to her body, the jar of honey packed inside thumped against her ribs. She allowed a corner of her mouth to lift at the thought of the honey. Her eyes narrowed slightly. The elderly man standing next to her cocked his head as if he wanted to know the secret her expression hinted at. She wasn’t about to share it with him. The honey was…
Dear Reader: What do you think she’ll do with the jar of honey?
When was the light going to change? She took a step forward and the blare of a car horn sounded as a car warned her not to cross and whizzed past, dangerously close to her. She took a step backwards.
Glancing around, her eyes glossed over other pedestrians bundled up their winter clothing. Despite the freezing weather, she was burning up. It wasn’t because of her favorite warm red coat, hat or her knee high boots. Instead, mere thoughts of him overheated her body so that she wanted to rip off her clothing. A flame flickered in her aching pussy, spreading to her needy breasts, and then traveled over her body.
She couldn’t wait to feel his commanding cock inside of her, stretching her, thrusting slowly and deeply into her, then hard and fast until she cried out his name, wrapping the simple vowels and consonants with such exultation that his name sounded almost transcendent and climaxed convulsively, her vaginal muscles grasping, clutching, claiming him, unwilling to let him go … until release overcame her and every part of her body slipped into another dimension, a fluid dimension in which she felt she could float forever.
Clutching the bag hanging on her right shoulder closer to her body, the jar of honey packed inside thumped against her ribs. She allowed a corner of her mouth to lift at the thought of the honey. Her eyes narrowed slightly. The elderly man standing next to her cocked his head as if he wanted to know the secret her expression hinted at. She wasn’t about to share it with him. The honey was…
Dear Reader: What do you think she’ll do with the jar of honey?
Paz Edwards
