I'm back.
My muse having left me in sorrow for many a year, returned with a vengeance, taking sleep and sanity from me until I released her onto the page.
Consider this my Birthday present, not only to me, but to anyone who would read my triflings.
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I walked into the small public loo. The lights were off, I left them that way, I didn't need light for what I was planning on doing.
Farthest stall, I rather thought of it as mine. Closing the door, I undid my clothing as I was backing up.
A warm barrier stopped me, I started to turn when a soft voice murmured in my ear.
"Hands on the door."
I swallowed.
"What?" was all I could gasp out. Never mind the shiver that ran up my spine.
"Hands on the door, now."
I heard the iron fist in the velvet glove of that voice.
One hand was on the door before I knew what I was doing.
"Damn."
The soft voice, lips grazing my ear spoke.
"Do you need help?"
There, in the dark, I stood, pants and knickers round my knees, one hand on the heavy door in front of me as someone slid a hand down my arm, grasping my wrist, then guiding the free hand up to the door, directing my fingers to grip the top of the door. Shivering, I did as I was silently instructed.
"Nice of you to start things for me."
I felt fingers brush my hip, a squeak of surprise at the softness exploring the curve of my rear.
Lips once more brushed my ear.
"You want this, need it even."