My palms were sweaty as I approached the hardwood counter of the coffee shop. I kept my eyes trained on the pear shaped butt of the woman in front of me. She was wearing tight blue jeans and a white blouse. She had her blonde hair in a pony tail, which allowed me to trace my eyes from her great ass to the tantalizing snow white of her nape.
I wanted to fuck her. Plan and simple. It was a weird moment for me, that recognition of my own bestial nature. I don't think it suited me. I was average height, overweight, more fond of reading than football and my eyesight was fading. I was twenty-five years old. I had a good job but dwindling ambition and I had never walked more than 5 miles in my life. Physicality wasn't my thing.
For once, my body seized control over my mind. I bumped into her perfect shaped derriere, my cock rock hard. It was absolutely fucking strange. My dick had never grown this big before.
What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck did I just do?
My dick exploded in size, finally popping out of the hole in my cargo shorts. It plopped right in the crease of her butt. To my complete surprise, she leaned into it. This walking sepia-stained Instagram pushed her ass right onto my dick. And wiggled.
"I'll have the grande pumpkin spice latte please. For Kate." Her voice was undeniably sexy. She was definitely female.
When she said Kate, I knew I wouldn't be able to stop myself. Kate was a girl's name. And though I had never touched a girl, the proposition seemed to tempting to resist. With my burly arms I grabbed her hips and plunged into her. Her flimsy jeans were the only barrier between her vagina and my throbbing member. And right now they absolutely looked like paper.
I pressed my nose against her neck and let my neckbeard brush against her skin. I took a long deep sniff, drinking in her vanilla scent. I whispered into her ear, "Kate. I don't know you and you don't know me. But I would protect you from all manner of objectification on the internet. I would adorn you with all the fedoras I own and buy you jewelry with your initials on them. "
Time stopped. My words came out in an unstoppable flow. She turned around, shocked. Her eyes were a deep chesnut brown. Her eyebrows were perfectly manicured and her nose perfectly aquiline. She had high cheekbones and pink full lips, which were agape at the poetry I had unleashed.
"Who are you?" she said, incredulous at my boldness.
"I'm Mr. Right" I smoothly replied.
"Well, Mr. Right. You're the creepiest piece of shit I've ever seen in my life. It is not okay to just walk up to women in the coffee shops and sniff their necks. I'm fucking calling the police."
"I'm sorry! I couldn't help it!" Her acerbic tone had only served to increase my already inflamed erection. I liked strong, independent women. "I admire your strength and independence! It just exuded from your entire aesthetic! Your top was just so fantastic, your jeans so perfectly chosen, your hair so perfectly tied."
"In front of you, I am reduced to an animal."
What the fuck was I saying. What the fuck was I doing? I would never say this. I would never do this. Everything felt wrong. My limbs were moving but my body felt limp.
"Well..." She was flabbergasted. I had somehow crossed the line by being creepy in a way she had never encountered before.
"Kate, just give me a chance to let me show you what I'm all about." My eyes scrunched up and watered. My hands were clasped in prayer.
"I..." She was clearly stuck. And I couldn't blame her - there was no one I knew alive who had ever had to endure such insanity.