He ran the fingers of both hands from her hairline just behind her earlobes, down her neck, halfway over the tops of her shoulders, then down her naked back, over her shoulder blades, all the way to her waist. As he brushed just below each sharp blade softly padded in milky flesh, goose bumps raised and swelled across her skin, and she shuddered. The smallest sound escaped her throat.

“Ah, you like that?” he whispered. “Now I do know something about you.” There was a smile in his voice.

He was a big man. Not tall, but broad and thick. He walked with a slight swagger, and he always had a pleasant look on his face. She’d seen him often; apparently they had a lunch hour in common, and they always passed one another on the same sidewalk in front of the same bench, every single day.

It became such a thing that she started acknowledging him as they passed. First a smile and a nod. Then an off-handed comment about the weather. He always returned her banter. And he was funny.

The weather comments turned into small conversations they never stopped walking for; each would turn and keep moving backwards. They developed little private jokes and laughed while they talked and walked.

She found herself thinking about him, hoping they’d pass on a given day, missing their 30-second encounters on weekends and holidays. She wove a story around him. No wedding band, so she imagined he had a long term girlfriend, maybe they lived together. Maybe they were happy, but probably not. Probably like herself and George. She imagined scenarios where she was bold enough to put a hand out and touch his arm, so they could stand still and talk. She saw him smiling, and asking if he could buy her a cup of coffee. Then asking if he could walk her back to her office.

These fantasies started to spin out of control; the longer they passed one another, and the more involved their snippets of conversation became, the more intimate the fantasies became. One night, she saw his face behind her eyes as she brushed her fingers over her nipples. She put her head back, closed her eyes, and wondered what his hands would feel like on her skin. She wondered what kind of lover he was. She touched and teased every erogenous part of her body while recalling the kind stranger in the park.

When she ran into him the next day, she flushed bright. She knew she did. She felt it creeping up her neck and into her cheeks and earlobes. All she saw in her mind was the wanton tip of her head as her orgasm took her, while imagining he was watching…

“You okay today?” he asked. They were walking backwards. Or she was. Her feet stuttered to a halt when she realized he was standing, looking concerned. Her heart sped up and she flushed warmer when he came back toward her.

“Of course, thank you!” She smiled, but it was a flustered sort of smile.

“You look feverish. It’s this horrible weather, right?” His smile was back. His eyes were brown.

“Windburn, I’m sure. How are you? Are you going to be late?”

“Late for what?”

She had no idea for what. Where was he going every day at 1:45?

He smiled again. “You’re cute.” He leaned in, and she smelled nicotine and an unidentifiable cologne. “I’ve always thought you were cute. Always in such a hurry.” He grinned.

She cleared the shyness from her throat. “Me too. I mean… I thought- think you’re very handsome.”

He made a humming sound while studying her with mock suspicion. “I think that was a fished complement. But I will take it. Thank you, Beautiful.”

She looked at her feet.

“You’re very pink. Are you sure you’re okay? Will you let me walk you wherever you’re going, just to satisfy my own mind?”

Her heart was doing somersaults.

“Are you afraid of my knowing your destination?” He grinned again, warmly.

“Of course not!” As they walked, she recalled last evening. His elbow brushed back and forth against hers with their steps, and she wanted to lean in closer, feel him drape his arm around her waist, she wanted their hips to hug in time with their steps…

“Where do you work?”

“I’m a stenographer. At the courthouse.” She glanced at him and smiled. It was the first intelligent thing she’d said.

“That sounds exciting. Do you sit in on big cases?”

She shrugged. “Mostly domestics and misdemeanors. Nothing too exciting. What about you?”

“Meteorologist.”

“No way! For real?”

He laughed, and it was full and surprisingly loud. “For real!”

“Do you go on TV and stuff?”

“No no. I’m actually AMA certified. Went to school, the whole nine yards. But never had any interest in being a ‘weatherman.’ Just fascinated with weather, I guess.”

“What about tonight?”

She felt surprise give his body a small jolt. He stopped them, faced her, and looked earnestly into her face. “I know what you meant by that question, Beautiful. But I’m compelled to pretend I don’t.” His voice was much quieter, more intimate.

Suddenly he seemed very close. She felt the heat emanating off his body. The silver clouds of their breaths mingled before dissipating. “What would you like it to mean?”

He smiled gently. “I’d like it to mean that by some weird twist of fate, I end up in your bed.”

His naked thighs hugged the backs of her naked thighs, and his buttocks pressed her calves into the mattress. He started over with his hands, and retraced the same lines; this time he paused, focused around her shoulder blades. Her nipples peaked into the bedding, and she felt the ticklish ooze of cream between her swollen lips. She moaned softly.

He kept teasing. Then he leaned forward, and his tongue danced where his fingers had tread. Her voice became stronger. Her blood thrummed. “Please. Please,” she repeated.

“Please what?”

She could only groan.

His fingers touched the cleft in her back, where her softly rounded bottom split. He teased it, right to where it joined her thighs. She clenched her buttocks, and he tsked softly and traced up, then back down, pushing deeper each time. He paused where her thighs met, and shifted his own weight, asking her to spread for him.

She did, and felt the flush climbing her skin.

As his hand dipped between her legs, he asked again, “Please what, Beautiful? Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Touch me.”

“I am touching you. Tell me where.”

“There.”

“Where? Here?” He caressed the cheek of her ass.

She shuddered, and said, “No.”

“Here?” She felt his hand outline and cup the curve of her hip.

“No, not there.”

He reached back and touched her calf. “What about here?”

“God, no. Touch me. Feel how wet I am,” she finally blurted. She was temporarily horrified at the crassness of her own voice.

But he responded by shifting, and flipping her to her back. He put his hands behind her knees and opened her wide. “I can see you’re beautifully eager.” He paused, looked in her eyes. “I’ve wanted to do this since the first time we passed on the sidewalk.”

She’d been taken aback by his words, by the boldness of his statement there on the busy sidewalk in front of the courthouse. “How do you know you’d be welcome in my bed?” she whispered. Her coherence surprised her.

His face fell. He smiled wryly. “I don’t. I could only hope.” He stepped back.

She whispered. “I never said you wouldn’t be.”

She’d left him there, run up the steps far too out of breath and again warm. She spent the rest of the day, of the night, thinking she must have dreamed the whole thing. No man had ever made so bold a move. And she wondered what it was about him, and it, that only served to arouse her rather than frighten or worry.

She lay in the tub that night; when she brought herself to climax, that he watched, then thrust his cock into her seemed less a fantasy than it did fate.

They did not pass the following day. Or the day after that. She wondered how her heart could break over a man whose name she did not even know. She knew only that he desired her, and it made him, in turn, the only thing she desired.

On the third day, at 5pm, she descended the courthouse steps, eyes on the ground in front of her. It was Friday. Her spirits dragged, and she was certain she’d imagined all of it.

“What if you ended up in my bed, Beautiful?” a voice said close beside her.

She jumped and looked up into his face, and his lips were on hers. He kissed her softly, teasingly. “Would that make any difference to the outcome?”

She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t think. She looked into his warm eyes, at his full lips, and she nodded her agreement.

6 thoughts on “Erogenous – Her

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