Sitting in the café centered between the hustle and bustle of a well-established business park, I read my book. With only my turkey sandwich and the constant bustle of people around to keep me company, I enjoyed the forty seven minutes I had left. It was then when I looked up to scratch my head and noticed her.
I was a quiet, reserved guy and I read a lot. Looking up at her frame, her appearance, she was the woman that was talked about in all the books I had read. Standing 5'4 her luscious hips circled through the crowded café looking for a place to sit. She peered above the bustle, up on her tippy toes, looking for an empty seat. I stared at her, immediately longing to snake my arms around her waist and pull her in for a long, passionate kiss. I needed to rest my head against her soft, abundant bosom and fall asleep in her arms. Her hazel eyes saw my gentle stare and I offered the extra seat at the table I was sitting at. The offer was the only sensible thing my brain could come up with.
Because this was one of the few places within the business park to eat, it was always packed around lunch. It wasn't uncommon to share table with a stranger, but it can still be a little awkward to uninvitingly plop yourself down by someone. I watched her wiggle her gorgeous hourglass figure through the occupied tables and chairs to get to me.
"Were you offering this seat to me?" Her voice was like silk and I was immediately stricken. Her brow had been furled in amazement at my generosity and curious that I would offer to share my space with a stranger.
"Well it's crowded and you looked like you needed a spot to relax." I offered my most innocent of smiles, trying to hide the fact that my heart had bottomed out of my chest and was bouncing around my stomach somewhere. "Of course, you don't have to accept the offer."
She set her lunch and travel mug down on the table and let out a sigh. "This is just so awesome of you. I have a tendency to get flustered in crowded places and you might have just saved my soup here." Her relief was genuine and god, she was cute.
Her long, almond colored hair was braided around to her left shoulder while some loose strands framed her face. She had these dark, horn rimmed glasses that she had to constantly push back up her nose as she leaned over to blow the steam off her cup of soup. She was obviously a bit of a nerd, but that only increased my allure. That particular day she was wearing some skin tight jeans, a black sports coat, and a Pac-man t-shirt. The lanyard around her neck outlined the curve between her breasts supporting the weight of her badge and keys. I remembered thinking to myself, "What I wouldn't give to be that lanyard nestled between those tits."
I put my book down and began a conversation. I needed to learn more about this beautiful thing in front of me. I learned her name was Malory, but she went by Mal. She was twenty four and worked IT in the building across from the building I was in. She spent a great deal talking about her work and enjoyment that she got out of it was written all over her face.
When she had finished, she looked up to me and smiled, "And what about you señor? Give us a little background." Her word choice amused me. I clearly remember sitting back in my chair after she had spoken those words and thinking she was delightful. With a sigh, I confessed that I worked in accounting, was twenty seven, and that my name was Thomas.
Aside from her words, this was my first introduction to her wonderful sounds. She repeated my name over after I had said it and moaned innocently, as if she had just eaten a square of chocolate. "Thomas?...Mmm. That's a good name."
I actually shivered. We talked for a while and my forty seven minutes had quickly dwindled to three. Risking sounding too forward, I took a chance. "So, it's nearing the end of my lunch, but I really enjoyed talking to you today. Can we meet again tomorrow and I'll save you a seat?"
"That would seriously be the best thing ever." She replied as she gathered her things and stood. "See you tomorrow, Thomas." She let my name trail off her lips and that was the end of it for me. She was adorable and sweet and sexy all at the same time and I had to make her mine.
We had lunch every weekday for about a month. She never seemed to mind that I was more reserved and quiet. Most of the people I knew thought I was boring, but she pried into my thoughts and made me share everything. I loved that she could recognize when I was deep in thought and never assumed that I wasn't paying attention.
I had begun to notice that she had unusualness about her as well. She was a classic example of an introvert and had all these ticks. If someone I knew from my office bumped into us and decided to sit, she put her walls up. Her hands would go to her lap and she would stop eating. Those pretty little knees of hers would bounce under the table and eye contact was rarely given. She was good at masking it most of the time but if it was noticed, she'd pass it off as a tummy ache. I knew it was anxiety though, and that made me feel all the more special that she had never shown any of those ticks when it was just the two of us.
It was after this initial month that things took a turn. It was Wednesday and I had reserved our usual table. She came in and it was clear that something was eating at her. "Hey there Mal, wanna share the burden?" I playfully prodded.
She let out a huge, ugly sigh that made me laugh and she plopped her head upon the table. "There's a company party."
"What about it?"
She repeated the sigh. "It's this huge gala event and I have to go and I really, really don't want to." She wiggled her butt in the seat like a pouting toddler.
Quite proud of myself for not letting her ass distract me from our conversation, I reached out for her hand. She was obviously distressed despite her childish outward appearance. "You really have to go?"
She sat up, and much to my disapproval, took her hand back to unleash her hair from its usual braid. "My team is receiving a reward and I have to be there." Her eyes clothes as she massage her scalp. "I fucking hate parties." It was clear the very thought of attending this party had stressed her out.
She scrunched up her face, but I barely noticed. I was intoxicated by the scent of vanilla and what I thought to be apricots wafting out as she fingered through her hair. For a moment I was transfixed by the aroma, but I soon realized that this was a great opportunity for me. I could go with her.
"What if I went with you?" My questioned lingered in the air, much like the scent of her hair.
Her eyes opened and she returned her hands to the table. "Tom, are you serious? Why would you willingly volunteer for that kind of torture?" The skepticism in her voice told me everything.
"Look, Mal. I know that you and I have an innocent little lunch thing going on, but I like to think that over our eatings we've become friends." I paused. I was making an assumption about our standings that, in my mind, could either go really well or cause her to withdraw from me. "I know you hate social gatherings and as your friend I feel as though it is my duty to stand by your side. I'm positive that with a shoulder to lean on, the evening would be much less stressful for you."
Her demeanor changed. She dropped whatever tension that was weighing her down and smiled a bit. "You would be my shoulder?" she asked innocently.
I fought the urge to admit I wanted to be her everything. "Mal, I would love to."
The night of the party came fast and before I knew it I was sporting the tux I bought for my brother's wedding, standing at her doorstep, about to ring the bell. I was nervous. Now I stand 5'11 and I'm alright looking, but I knew I paled in comparison to many a male figure. I regretted not getting a better haircut. I wished that I had worked out more or at least eaten healthier. I was about to screw my self-doubt and get it over with, knowing that my regrets could occupy most of the evening, but the door swung open.
She stood in a dark purple, velvet gown that went to floor. She was gorgeous. The off-the-shoulder cut of the dress gave me visions of standing behind her, kissing up and down her neck and collar bone. She laughed at my staring and did a turn, revealing the back of the dress that dipped down to the small of her back in a large v shape. I wanted to touch there, to feel the warmth of her skin underneath my fingertips. It was snug too, and clung to her as though it had been painted on. Everything about it made me want her more and I had to adjust my pants after a while.
"I know it's not my usual t-shirt and jeans, but do you think it'll do?" She said coyly with a half-smile.
"God, you're a vision, Mal." I stood in the doorway breathless.
To tell the truth, I don't remember much of what happened that evening because of that dress. I was mesmerized. I do remember standing by her, giving the silent support she required to make it through the anxiety inducing evening, but I was just pleased to be close to her. Our lunches were nice and all, but tonight I got to hold her hand as she walked up and down stairs trying to keep her balance in heels. I was able to dance with her, letting my fingers caress the velvet at her waist that so innocently hid her skin. It was wonderful.
After the awards had been given out and an appropriate amount of time had passed, she grabbed my hand and led me outside. Once we were outside she gave me a hug, saying, "I don't know if you realize how much it has meant to me having you here. You've been extremely comforting. Thank you, Thomas."
I held her in the hug, eagerly accepting the contact between our bodies. "Not a problem, Mal."
