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 wanted to know everything about her, and he didn’t even know her name. How had they not gotten around to names? It was a silly oversight, and seemed strangely unnecessary; he’d seen her hurrying toward him one day, in front of the Lt. John Andrews Memorial bench. She was tall and wore a dark pantsuit with a bright red scarf against her white face and white running shoes. She didn’t look up. But he’d smelled her as she breezed by, and it was a pure, light, feminine sort of scent; the kind he now missed at home the times he used to go into the bathroom after Sarah finished her shower.

It happened again the following day. And the day after that. He found himself walking at her, just to draw a deep breath to take home with him. She started to filter through his thoughts at odd moments, and to say he found her arousing was an understatement. Especially the first time she glanced up and he saw her large dark blue eyes.

And her smile.

He chided himself for acting like a lovestruck little boy. He finally got up the nerve to comment one day, after they’d made eye-contact and nodded acknowledgements. She’d smiled politely and answered, never slowing her pace. A few days later, she made the comment, and his heart thudded. He played her inanely funny words over and over in his head, and they kept him hard as a rock all day; when he finally made it home, he experienced one of the most intense orgasms of his life.

They carried on day after day, but their comments grew into on-going mini-conversations they slowed for, often turning to face one another but each continuing in their own direction. He relied on them. On days they didn’t meet, he returned to his desk with a thundercloud darkening his face and went home in the evening feeling like the sky had fallen.

One overcast Tuesday, he saw her coming, shoulders shrugged up around her ears for warmth. When she saw him, she didn’t smile but turned almost the color of her scarf. Concern rushed in, and he halted.

“You okay today?” he called after her. She turned, but kept walking until she seemed to notice he wasn’t.

“Of course, thank you!” She smiled. He felt himself returning it. And approaching her. He had to breathe her.

“You look feverish. It’s this horrible weather, right?”

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

“Late for what?” He smiled again, and when she seemed bewildered and speechless, he told her, “You’re cute.” He leaned closer, so as not to be overheard. “I’ve always thought you were cute. Always in such a hurry.”

She cleared her throat and stammered a bit. “Me too. I mean… I thought- think you’re very handsome.”

He hummed and looked along his nose at her. “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?” She put him in mind of wildlife caught in a pair of headlights, and he tried to put her at ease. “Are you afraid of my knowing your destination?”

“Of course not!”

As they walked, he recalled last evening, and the things he’d done to her naked body in his mind. Her elbow brushed back and forth against his, and he had the intense desire to put his arm out and possess her, physically. To stake some sort of claim. He wished he could let her know what she did to him without it seeming rude, or inappropriate. Instead, he asked, “Where do you work?”

“I’m a stenographer. At the courthouse.” She glanced at him and smiled.

“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?” The way her face opened flooded him with relief.

He laughed. “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?”

Surprise and adrenaline hit him in a rush. He saw his chance and took it, stopping them both. He faced her, looked earnestly into her eyes. “I know what you meant by that question, Beautiful. But I’m compelled to pretend I don’t,” he said softly, intimately. That light scent surrounded them, and he grew hard again. He was thankful for the protection of his overcoat.

He was surprised at the boldness of her answer. “What would you like it to mean?”

A smile spread his face. “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. His cock throbbed against the skin of her legs, and the sound of her soft moan elicited a shining drop of pre-cum.

But he kept teasing. And when he couldn’t stand it any longer, he leaned forward, and tasted the invisible lines he’d drawn. Her voice, stronger, began to beg, “Please. Please,” she repeated.

“Please what?”

She groaned.

He 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 he watched the pink flush climbing her skin.

As his hand teased 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?” He brushed the outline 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.

There was no more teasing. He shifted his weight off her and flipped her to her back. The ache he felt deep in his balls and the way his mouth watered were almost unbearable. 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 looked a bit startled, perhaps 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.

His heart dropped. He concealed it with a wry smile. “I don’t. I could only hope.” He stepped back, hiding his disappointment. It was no one’s doing but his own.

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

He’d watched her run up the steps. He would take the afternoon off so he could go home and celebrate the amazing gift she’d just given him. He wondered vaguely if she would be offended to know what he did with her words, or if she’d match his excitement; he wanted to show her, show her the affect she had on him.

The following morning he awoke to a frantic phone message. It was the ex-wife, in crises with The Boy they shared in common. They lived two hours outside the city. While his mind was consumed with worry over what he might find with the school and The Boy’s latest bid for attention, in the back of his mind he fretted that he wouldn’t see her, that they couldn’t pick up their conversation and see where it took them. He wanted to buy her a meal, and listen to her talk and take her home and fuck her…

He barely made it to the courthouse by 5pm Friday. He looked up and saw her coming down the courthouse steps, eyes lowered. Shoulders slumped. She looked like he’d felt for the past three days. He fell in beside her and said softly, “What if you ended up in my bed, Beautiful?”

She jumped and looked up into his face, and he was kissing her. She tasted and felt exactly as he’d imagined, only better. “Would that make any difference to the outcome?” he whispered when he brought himself to break away.

There was no sign of hesitation as she nodded her agreement.

6 thoughts on “Erogenous – Him

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