Journal

Monday, December 19, 2005

A short story

I decided to try my hand at first person....this is unedited and tossed together fast but I hope you enjoy!

It started with a hot, steamy look shared between two strangers. I didn’t even mean to make eye contact. I’d seen him looking at me when I entered the coffee shop, and I had felt the sizzling awareness we shared. I didn’t want to feel that warm simmering heat or the desire to get to know this man. It didn’t matter that he was just my type with dark hair with a widow’s peak that drew attention to dark, sensual eyes. I wasn’t looking for a man nor did I need the complications of a relationship. Having recently come out of a long relationship, I didn’t know how to be with another man. Not that I wasn’t growing intrigued by the idea, but I knew I needed to learn about myself right now. I needed to know who I was as a woman. Yeah, I was in better shape than I had been in years. My brown hair was now auburn, my size eight body, now a four. I was getting attention from men in a way I didn’t remember ever experiencing. Perhaps, I put off a vibe that said I was available. For the first time in my adult life, I was, after all. And I had needs, sexual ones. I just didn’t know how to deal with them.
I bought my coffee and fully planned to leave without giving this man, the one who I could feel staring at me, another glimpse. I willed myself to ignore the tiny ache forming between my legs. The one that said, I needed to rediscover the art of pleasure and this man could deliver. I shoved away the feeling, knowing I wasn’t ready. Not yet.
Still, knowing this, I found I simply couldn’t resist a quick glimpse at my alluring stranger. He looked up just as I brought him into view, and the look in his eyes burned with intent. This man wanted me. And Lord help me, I wanted him. The rush from the contact hit me like a bolt of lightening. My stomach fluttered and a tug of desire burned lower. His eyes were dark brown, sensual, intelligent. I didn’t even know his name and I was imagining what he’d feel like. What he’d taste like. How his body would move inside mine. I all but ran from the coffee shop, determined to escape. Not from him, but myself. I wanted this stranger and it scared the hell out of me.
The next day, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I regretted my choice. Maybe a night of hot sex with a man who really made me hot was exactly what I needed to get on with life? I was responsible. I knew to use a condom. I knew what safe sex meant. And wasn’t sex with a stranger a rather liberating experience? There would have been no fear of tomorrow. No restrictions. No reason to hold back. I could have been as daring as I wanted.
That night, feeling more than a little aroused as I thought about what could have been, I acted on a whim. I went back to the coffee shop. For some reason, I just knew he’d be there. I took great pain choosing an outfit, trying on several outfits and settling on a black dress with a flared skirt and a v neck that showed just the right amount of cleavage. My bra was sheer and sexy, my panties a slip of lace. I wanted attention this time so I dressed to get it.
The minute I walked into the coffee shop, I felt his presence, and the warm heat of his gaze. I played it cool, not making eye contact. I bought my coffee and sat down at a corner table not far from his, aware that he watched my every move.
A few minutes later, he appeared at my table, and asked if he could sit down. His name was Darius. I laughed as he helped me pronounce it properly, liking him instantly. Something I didn’t want to feel. I didn’t want to know his name or what he was like. These were complications. They made him real. This was supposed to be about sex. But Darius kept talking. Soon, I knew he was about to enter medical school after years of struggling to work his way through school. I admired him. I found him charming and, oh, so sexy. Hours passed, and conversation continued. Soon the coffee shop was closing and we were the last to leave.
As Darius walked me to my car, I felt fear and excitement mingle together. He wore a dark blue button down and black slacks. He had a Latin sex appeal that really got me hot. But I also I liked him. Too much. I reasoned that away quickly, biting my bottom lip as I snuck another look at his long, lithe frame. If he’d turned out to be a jerk, I’d never have gone through with this. Liking him was not a bad thing.
The parking lot was empty and I’d park in a far, dark corner. I opened my door and tossed my purse inside. When I turned back, he was close. His scent, warm and masculine, insinuated itself into my nostrils, drawing me into a lust filled fog.
He leaned a hand on my little Toyota, and eased closer. “I want to kiss you,” he whispered, his voice low and sultry as it danced along my nerve endings and sent an instant sizzle straight between my trembling thighs.
My hand went to his chest, the first touch we shared like molten heat. My nipples tightened and I knew a kiss would never be enough. I didn’t answer him with words. Instead, I pulled lightly on his chest.
His head lowered towards mine, slow, as if he didn’t feel the anticipation I did. But I knew better. He felt all I did and maybe more. I felt it in the very air around us.
At first he was gentle, his lip a mere caress of a touch. Then, he pulled back a bit, just enough to allow our breath to mingle. Seconds passed and simmering passion seemed to pull us together. Suddenly, we were kissing, tongues sliding together in a seductive dance of pure hunger. I could feel his body pressed against mine, his thighs encasing mine, his hands in my hair, on my face, and….God, on my breast. His thumb stroked my nipple and I moaned against his mouth. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I was in a parking lot. Still, I couldn’t seem to care.
My hand went to his, molding it to my chest even as I arched into the touch. He ground into my hips, and slid his fingers beneath my skirt, pushing the material high up my leg. When he brushed the lace of my panties and then slid across my sensitive flesh, I was completely lost. I hadn’t wanted like this in a lifetime. He whispered something in Spanish. Sexy. Hot. Then, “You’re so damn wet.”
And damn wet felt good. I lifted my leg around his hip even as he unzipped his pants. Somehow, he’d managed to retrieve a condom. That he’d done it fast and effectively worked for me. I didn’t care it meant he’d had practice. Right now, his experience came with a silver lining…my pleasure. I kissed his neck, inhaling his spicy scent, and then sucking in a breath when his cock founds it way inside me.
My sexy stranger kissed me then, claiming my mouth as he buried himself to the hilt. A slow slide of his shaft backwards and then we began a seductive dance. I could feel the wind around me, the only thing about the night that wasn’t on fire. He didn’t rush, apparently unconcerned about our location. Instead, he seemed to savor the feel of being inside me, kissing me, touching me, making me crazy. I’d had sex in fancy places, complete with flowers and wine, that didn’t manage to be as seductive as this.
It was me who turned up the volume, feeling the first hint of orgasm. I moved against him, wanting that ultimate reward. No needing it. My ex hadn’t managed to get me this close in years. Following my lead, he ground into me, building speed and power. Each time he hit my core, it rocked me with sensation. And then, that thing I thought gone forever, happened. I tumbled over into complete, utter bliss. I couldn’t even cry out, so intense was the explosion. My body grabbed a hold of his cock, taking and taking. In some far corner of my mind I knew when he came. He buried his face in my neck, and his body shook.
We stood there for long moments, and reality came back. I’d just had sexy with a stranger. The best sex I remembered having in a very long time. It was almost embarrassing. But as my stranger eased my leg down to the ground and helped me settle my skirt into place, he smiled. Then we both laughed. To my utter shock, he seemed a bit shy about the entire thing to. Could that be?
He leaned forward and whispered in my ear. “Is it to late to ask you to come home with me?”
If he was this good in a parking lot, I couldn’t wait to find out what he man could do in bed. “It’s never too late,” I said, meaning it. Tonight I had reinvented myself. I’d taken a step towards a new life. Would Darius be a part of that? I didn’t know. But tonight, it didn’t matter. I just wanted to enjoy being me.
And with Darius, enjoyment seemed a sure thing.

Posted by Lisa Renee Jones :: 2:48 PM :: 0 comments