I'm sitting in a coffee shop on 98th Street, just taking a break between grocery shopping and picking up the dry-cleaning to have a hot drink, when she walks past me. I barely even notice her at first, other than to think that her outfit really isn't suited to the early spring chill. But then she sits down a few tables away, facing me, and the way her legs are angled reveals just a little bit of her thigh underneath her skirt, and it hits me. I should be down there.
It's a perfect mental image, so real that I almost think I've done it for a moment; I can see myself setting down the coffee and standing up, walking over to that table, dropping to my knees, and absolutely burying my face in that woman's pussy. I can picture it in my head in every detail, not just the image but with all five senses. I know, in that moment, exactly what she smells like when she's aroused. I can hear her. She doesn't moan. She just lets out these tiny little kitten-ish whimpers, like she's too dignified to really let rip with a yell but she can't quite control herself. It's the most beautiful sound I can possibly imagine.
And then it hits me that I am imagining it, that I'm picturing myself down on my knees licking out another woman, and the image fades. I'm still sitting in my chair with a cup of coffee, still in a small crowd of people on a Thursday afternoon in a perfectly normal place doing perfectly normal things, and not suddenly and spontaneously deciding to become another woman's sex slave.
I set down the coffee when I realize that in the fantasy, that's exactly what I was. For that split-second, that little moment in my head, I wasn't just licking because I wanted to lick. I was licking because I had no other thought, no other purpose to my existence than to be between her thighs. I wasn't even a person, I was a sex toy that she was using to get off.
I remember that sensation of connection, of understanding that came over me, and suddenly I see it all over again. No, not all over again, this is new. Different details, but the same idea. I'm kneeling between her thighs like I was...God, like I was meant to be there. Her hands are curling around my hair in her passion, but she doesn't need to hold my head in place. I can't imagine ever wanting to be anywhere but down on my knees, my head between her legs, licking her snatch until her whimpers finally do turn to screams, until her screams turn to gasps, until her gasps turn to panting and she finally pushes my head away in exhaustion. Even when it does, I know I'll just be waiting until the moment when I can lick some more.
I come back to myself and realize I'm staring. This woman's probably going to think I'm some sort of pervert, the way I'm clearly looking at her legs underneath the table. But she hasn't pressed them together or crossed them or anything. If anything, she's spread them a little wider so that I can see more of that smooth, white expanse of flesh along her thighs, so that I can...
I can kiss all the way up those perfect legs. Starting with the feet, I know she'd want me to lavish a little extra attention on those. But as nice as they are, there's only one place I want to be now. Only one place I ever want to be now, and I keep kissing and licking and nibbling my way up her legs until I reach her cunt. I can feel the heat of her body before I even press my lips against her, and I understand why she hasn't needed a coat. She feels almost feverish against my tongue. I taste her arousal, and down there on the floor, I'm fingering myself. I don't seem to have clothes on anymore. I understand why. She wants to see me naked. She wants me to be naked and touching myself while I lick and lick and lick and...
I wipe away a tiny bead of drool when I come out of it this time. I don't know where these thoughts are coming from. I've never had any interest in other women. I'm engaged, for God's sake! I look down at my ring, trying to remember what sex with a man is like, trying to remember my fiancé's name, but all that comes to mind is the image of that ring pressing up against the woman's warm flesh as I sink three fingers deep into her pussy. Why didn't I realize that I could use my fingers as well as my tongue before now? Oh, God, there are so many ways to pleasure her and I've got to learn them all. My thumb presses onto her clit as I pump my fingers in and out, staring at her pussy as I finger-fuck her. I suddenly realize that I don't even know what she looks like, not really. I can describe her pussy in intimate detail, but her face is just a blur to me. I'm not meant to look at her face. I exist permanently at waist-level for my mistress.
