"That's Sunday sorted then Kate xx"
*****
Saturday, 19/4/17, 6.11pm.
My stomach churns as I pull the thick black tights up my legs, ease them over my butt and snap them loose above my waist. My reflection in the mirror disturbs me, red bra, black legs with shimmers of pale blue briefs glowing under the dark nylon encasing my legs, butt and waist, it's not attractive.
The insatiable need in me to appear ultra feminine tonight has occupied my mind constantly since my first meeting with Kate. I've spent the week cursing myself for the way I was dressed when I'd entered the Garden Inn, my torn jeans, naff chunky crop, duffle coat and tatty scuffed boots. I was a stray cat in the middle of a pedigree breed show. That all changes the instance I slide the poppy print satin dress over my shoulders. It glides down over my shape, flutters across my butt, caresses into my waist and nestles, straps snuggling my shoulders, I feel special as I tousle my hair into the 'I've not made an effort,' style. Wolf whistles further embolden me as I pirouette through the Monkey Bar on my way to my first ever proper date.
Hopping from one foot to the other, tugging my old duffle coat tight to me, I tell myself it's the cold I'm shielding, not my nerves as the hands on my watch say five past eight. I'm beginning to feel distraught; she's not coming, she's decided I'm not worth the effort, she's had a better offer!
In the orange street lights, amidst a crowd of revellers, a red haired madwoman, arms in the air, screams a breathless "hello" as she wraps her arms around my neck. Pulling me in, her mouth attaches to mine, a tongue slips into my mouth as a cold body spreads itself over and around me, her long overcoat envelopes us, as, dumbstruck, I stand rigid in shock.
Pulling back, her hands drop to mine. Fingers clasp mine, her smiling face talks words I can't hear in my confusion at the unexpected embrace and public intimacy. Kate laughs at my embarrassment, grips my hand and leads me into the bar.
Kate drops her shoulder and her overcoat slithers down her straightened limbs, spinning it round on an outstretched hand, she flicks it onto the back of a high barstool at one of the many island bar tops. Jumping up onto the opposite stool I watch in admiration as Kate ventures through the crowded bar to fetch us drinks.
Seeing her lean against the aged mahogany bar, I drool at her shape. She's like a small thoroughbred horse, a mix of strength and elegance ooze from taught swaying hindquarters, her long red mane resembles a ferocious fire as it tumbles recklessly down the length of her spine, a complete contrast to the bright yellow halter, that curls under and around her torso before, snaking back up around her pale neck. Green trousers snuggle her thighs, stretching tightly around pronounced biceps and calves, flexing and relaxing as her foot digs at the floor impatiently.
Lost in a dreamy disposition I watch her turn, mojitos in hands, sashaying hips swing with each stride on silver Sole Diva platforms. Small breasts tickle and ripple under yellow polyester, stray curls of red hair bounce across her shoulders pulling you in to her bright glorious face. High cheekbones catching light freckles that adorn the bridge of her button nose. Pouting lips, glow liquid like in gloss, emphasising the tongue that points sharply at me, a cheeky introduction of how this nights going to shape.
Four more mojitos and lost to time, just revelling in our own space, Kate finally leans back in her barstool, letting go off my hands and arms she's been touching and stroking the past hours. Her eyes lock with mine, questions fill her mind but nothing comes forth to me, I stare back, a lost inquisition. Her eyes never leave mine, as she reaches below the narrow table top that divides us. Some strange, awkward movements and Kate relaxes back against the back of her barstool again. She raises her hands, in the left a black sock, in the right a silver Sole Diva platform shoe.
A smile creeps across my face as a bare foot pushes between my knees, easing them apart, stroking up and down both my calves in turn. Our eyes don't flinch, locked into each other's questioning minds. The foot forces my left, then right knees further apart. Stroking lightly up each tense thigh, tingles start in my lurching stomach, sensitive nerves begin to electrify, sending butterfly pulses through my body as I sink lower in my barstool, legs stretching out as I surrender to the pleasure.
The ball of Kate's foot finally rest on my vagina, her big toe tap, tap, tapping awake my little man in his boat. Some circling of the ball on my dampness and she slides her foot downwards. Her big toe rests against nylon covered cotton briefs, gently pushing the material into me. Slowly, round and round, the big toe eases itself into my open moistening vagina. My breath begins to catch in my chest, held by a burning passion, showing on my erecting nipples and reddened cheeks.
Kate lazily eases the pressure on me, in turn pointing her eyes to her own waist, directing me to look there! Kate's eyes never leave mine as she fumbles with the button of her trousers. I stare in wonder, confused at what's coming next, till she tugs at her shirt, raising it up over her muscled tummy. Peering through the dim lights of the bar, I search her skin, squinting I finally see it! Kate's a cutter, five, maybe six thin white pencil line scars, delicately tattoo her abdomen.
Scars; of emotional pain, scars of the efforts Kate has made to rid herself of the pains of sexuality angst, scars marking the points where she released her own blood in an effort to ease the pressure on her brain. Her eyes look deep inside me, a knowing grin bleeds across her mouth in realisation that I share those feelings. I'm not a cutter, I cope in a different manner, my release comes through anonymous couplings, fucking with strangers every weekend, always a one off, no ties, no giving or taking, no love, till now.
As Kate buttons up, she rises from her stool, pulls on her coat and gives me her hand. My fingers lace through hers and I hold tight, I'm not familiar with *Publicly Displayed Affection, but it feels warm and inviting. Stepping out onto the street it feels like we are cocooned in a golden aura, I'm convinced everyone in the street is watching us, jealous of our togetherness, our love?
There's a sharp tugging on my arm as I walk dreamily, Kate pulls me up a dim alleyway between two high tenement buildings, pushing into me, arms snaking around me, our bodies rubbing excitedly against each other. Her hand slips under my hem as our tongues battle inside feverish mouths. Fingers rub, nylon across cotton, cotton across my sex, pressing into to me as her toe did earlier.
Gasping for breath I pull back from Kate, she doesn't stop, using the opportunity of the space between us, to lift her hand and ease it into my underwear. Fingers play, twist and curl in the narrow band of my pubic hair. Reaching through and below, like a heat seeking missile latching onto its target, they burrow into me and I throw my arms back around her.
Squeezed against each other, Kate pushes me back against the wall as I grab her butt, pulling our pelvic regions tight together. My thighs begin humping in time with my pulling her butt to me. Her hand tightly trapped between us. Her two fingers jammed inside me, work like a little cock, fucking me between our rutting bodies. a****listic grunts escape our hot mouths, saliva dribbles from the corner of my mouth, our eyes locked in a death stare as Kate fucks me. My eyes telling the naked truth; I fucking love having you inside me Kate, I want you inside me Kate, I'm falling for you Kate!
