The December sky was as cold and bleak as I felt on the inside. It was one week till Christmas and I was one of a thousand harried war weary last minute shoppers. I balanced my packages precariously as I made my way through the pushing and shoving mob. I hadn’t heard from him since our last encounter, and my life had gone on as it always had, cold, lonely, passionless, secure, and safe. He was with me every minute of every day, his lips, his hands and the way they caressed my body, his hard, stiff cock, always with me haunting me, teasing me. I stood at the curb waiting for the traffic to ebb so I could pick my way along the ice packed sidewalk to my car. A car careened around the corner splashing me with a spray of frigid mud and salt, the bags I held in my arms gave way and the Christmas booty crashed onto the pavement.
As I scrambled to collect my purchases before the feet of the oncoming masses trampled them, I heard a voice say to me “Here you forgot this.” I looked up, it was him, with a slanted grin on his face, he held out the lacey silky gown I had bought for myself. My face burned as if it were on fire, “Thanks” I stammered as I reached for the garment. My fingers tingled as they brushed against his; I looked up and realized that my mouth was uncomfortably close to his crotch. As he watched me appraising him, his pants started to balloon out under the force of his erection.
“ You’re cold,” he said as he helped me up. “You need some warming up.” He guided me through the bulk of shoppers, his hand resting casually on the small of my back. He navigated me to a nearby coffee house, the room was dim, the haze of cigar smoke hung heavily in the air. The loud speakers played sultry, seductive jazz music, the scent of coffee wafted in currents through out the shop. I held the steaming cup of coffee he had purchased for me tightly in my hands, its’ warmth thawing my frozen fingers.
He watched me from behind the shadow of his dark lashes; I could feel my cheeks warm beneath the intimacy of his gaze. Nervously, I fumbled for a cigarette, “Here let me get that for you” he said as he reached for the pack. He lit the cigarette, drawing its smoke deeply into his mouth, as he blew out the smoke, he handed the cigarette back to me. “Thanks” I muttered. My mind was racing, what could I say to him? How do I fill the silence between us? I wanted to ask him why he hadn’t called, what the moments we shared had meant, but I said nothing and tried to busy my hands with the cigarette. He unzipped his sleek black leather jacket and reclined back in his chair, watching me. “How have you been?” he asked. “Good” I replied. I tried to avert my eyes away from him, but I found myself meeting his stare. I finished the last of my drink, and began to gather up my packages. I had to go I couldn’t take the intimacy of the silence between us. He raised up from his seat and followed me out the door.
Before I could protest, he grabbed my arm tightly and guided me down the narrow walkway between the coffeehouse and a neighboring shop. When we were safely out of the casual gaze of passers by, he took the packages out of my hands, carefully resting them on the lid of a dumpster. He reached for me holding me tightly in his arms. He inhaled my scent deeply, “Mmmm, you smell good, clean” he moaned. He lowered his mouth and greedily slid his tongue in between my already parted lips. I gasped and let out an impassioned moan. My body melted into his arms, my breasts straining against his chest, yearning for his caress. “Do you want me?” he whispered seductively into my ear. “Yes” I replied, I wanted him so badly I could hardly breathe. He slid his hand up the length of my inner thigh, lifting my denim skirt high up onto my hips. I could feel the cold biting into my legs, but it didn’t matter.
