Rain beat relentlessly against the window and a rumble of thunder reverberated in the distance. I hesitated in the lobby of the building where I leased a small office debating my next move. The prospect of staying in town for however long it took the storm to pass thrilled me nearly as much as an hour-long drive home along a highway which always flooded during heavy rain. I scanned the sky for the inevitable streak of lightning that would make the decision for me.
“Oh, no, I don’t believe this rain!”
The woman’s voice sounded very close I glanced around and instantly my heart jolted in my chest. The quip about us needing a boat to get out of here froze on my lips. For the first time, the object of my unattainable desire stood close enough for me to touch her and to inhale her subtle floral fragrance.
Seen close up she was sexier than I could possibly have imagined. My nipples - never slow in coming forward - peaked in instant awareness at her proximity, followed quickly by similar reactions from the rest of my body. Sad to say I couldn’t remember when I last enjoyed this urgent rush of moist heat or the uncontrollable spasms deep inside my pussy. I clenched my thighs and savored the moment, welcoming the waves of exquisite pleasure sweeping over me.
A jagged flash of bright lightning chased away another clap of thunder. Her eyes widened and a small scream escaped her lips.
So she’s frightened of electric storms.
I clutched at the tiny scrap of information like a starving woman unexpectedly finding a box of food waiting on her doorstep. My arms ached to wrap her tight, to protect her from fear, but I couldn’t take that liberty when didn’t know her name or anything else about her other than what I’d seen from afar, or could imagine.
And my imagination is pretty inventive at times.
For two long months, I’ve found myself captivated by this sexy wench. Ever since she began work as a receptionist for a recruitment agency in the glass-fronted office right across the corridor from mine.
A few times I’ve been tempted to waylay her in the communal restroom or wander over to enquire about job opportunities for graphic designers but always stopped myself from doing something so crass or so blatantly obvious. Nevertheless, I kept my options open always ready to exploit a valid excuse to speak to her if one came my way. I watched her avidly each day and marveled at the many different outfits she possessed. Clothes that revealed intoxicating glimpses of the gorgeous body underneath them, plus flashes of her splendid thighs displayed to best advantage by the miniskirts she favored.
God how I fancy her.
No! Too tame, I swore silently, angry with the sudden inability to express myself.
I want to slam her up against the wall, rip the clothes from her body with my teeth then wrap those long legs around my waist and fuck her until we’re both sated.
At around twenty-one or two, she’s a lot younger than my forty-three years.
Far too young for me.
Willow tall, she matches me for height, her slim waist and firm breasts make me envious of her youth. A silky cap of burnished gold hair frames her heart-shaped face and just brushes her cheeks when she moves. Long dark lashes shade cobalt blue eyes that sparkle like multi-faceted sapphires when her soft rosy lips part in a smile.
Oh, how those lips beg me to kiss them.
I know I shouldn’t contemplate such things. I’m way past the age to have a teenage crush, or succumb to the lure of a sexy young femme who ordinarily wouldn’t give me a second glance. Why would this lovely creature be interested in a woman with graying hair and wrinkles? Although I’m a fairly athletic build, with not an ounce of fat to spare, I have to face one unpalatable fact; I’m old enough to be her mother.
Yet I couldn’t stop watching, or dreaming of what might be, even though I believed she was as far out of my reach as the stars. While I wanted to trust my gaydar, I feared it wasn’t giving me reliable signals where she’s concerned. For I’d also seen her in the arms of a young man, laughing, kissing, and going off together at the end of the day. The image of them naked, limbs entwined in the throes of passion, tortured me in the depths of the night.
“I think we’re going to get very wet.” Her soft voice, with just the hint of a southern drawl, tugged me back to the present.
Wet!
Oh, yes! I’m already wet just thinking of the games we might play if I kidnapped her and carried her home tonight. I can see us clearly, in my imagination, swimming together in my outdoor pool. Our naked bodies caressed by silky fingers of warm water. Kissing, touching, teasing and then, unable to wait another minute, making out on the poolside under a starry sky before moving indoors to share a shower. With warm spray and softly perfumed lotions to create an atmosphere of sensuality in which anything is possible, I can think of so many ways I’d love to pleasure her with my tongue and hands. Later, after we finished the bottle of champagne I’ve been keeping for just this occasion, we’d probably raid my big toy box. The image of her sitting astride my hips riding the strapless double, those gorgeous breasts bouncing and her fingers tearing at her clit as she approaches her climax, sends fresh pulses of energy to my core. The urge to touch myself and relieve the pressure is almost too much to bear.
Hey, down girl! You’re in a public place.
I pushed the erotic images firmly from my mind. Since I hadn’t used those toys in ages, preferring to pleasure myself with my hands and the one favorite vibrator that I always keep under my pillow, I was probably overreacting.
“You may be right.” I returned her smile then tore my gaze from her luscious lips before I did something unforgivable. Outside, the curtain of rain distorted the flashing neon sign above the Italian restaurant a few yards away across the square. So close, I can almost smell fragrant espresso coffee mingling with the savory aroma of Dino’s famous pasta dishes.
I’m tempted to ask her to share supper and a bottle of wine with me but hold my tongue, afraid to hear the unbearable rejection. My thoughts seesaw back and forth. This may be my only chance to spend some time in her company, to learn her name and a little about her. To have something tangible to feed on when I’m away from her.
Today she’s wearing a low cut tunic, the soft blue matches her eyes perfectly. To make matters worse she’s also showing enough cleavage to try the resolve of a saint, let alone a starving dyke whose imagination is way too vivid for her own peace of mind.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
I’ll take my chance and ask her to join me. What have I got to lose?