It was almost the perfect San Francisco summer evening...
I hadn't gone into the bar without any expectations whatsoever just a nice night with friends. Nothing sassy no game plan just fun. Needless to say the hormonal drama that went on had me rattled and a little frayed but none the less it was a good time. I saw him outside staring at me with the corner of his eye, and what turned me on was his lips, juicy, plump like persimmon - fleshy and sweet. With a cigarette dangling from my lips, I swished my and flicked, the scent of my perfume pervading and trespassing every crevice of his pores. I had him hooked.
The night went on like a tawdry country song, a glance here, a subtle pass there, a touch, a smile and it carried on and on like a lustful poker, a scintillating mambo between to complete strangers who were obviously attracted to each other. Minutes pass by and finally it was to grab a cab as was customary and time head home. He followed me outside and I was listless, and in rapt attention to what he had to say. I haven't felt that sexy in a while and the bourbon didn't help either (then again the week before, I felt sexy and then blacked out but thats another story for another moment).
As I was fumbling around my purse for a light he flipped his and there we were again outside, like two far off tribes sending smoke signals into the night sky. I was trying to catch every moment and take it in. A few quick exchanges inside the club had turned into denouments of scintillating glances of passion. The moment quickly moved as fast as it could and then climbing into the cab, we rode home to my place. The burden of fabric quickly became this struggle between our skins, pushing, pulling our lips had finally met, and there we were, two strangers madly an exacerbatingly attempting to free ourselves of whatever inhibitions we had, a silent soliloquy, a tango of derivative emotions.
A kiss here, a caress there and the wafting scent of incense and the scene of misanthropic disilluionment cast an amber glow against our bodies. Intertwined we made love, like two schoolboys captive of our imagination not really knowing how to react and act, how to return. Like volley it was back and forth, wet , slick and soulful. Slippery touches, engaging kisses, clumsy tousling of hair that seemed to have infinite possibilities on and on it went.
Ill never forget the way his hands grappled my skin like he was hoping for more than just sighs and whimpers of feeling. For once the ice had melted and I was being made love to by someone who knew what they were doing. It was a very pleasant surprise. And as quickly as it had manifested, so to did it end. He left his number , even though I knew it was a situation where I would never see him again, but alas for that moment, I felt a sense of validation that I haven't felt in quite sometime.
(to be continued...)
I hadn't gone into the bar without any expectations whatsoever just a nice night with friends. Nothing sassy no game plan just fun. Needless to say the hormonal drama that went on had me rattled and a little frayed but none the less it was a good time. I saw him outside staring at me with the corner of his eye, and what turned me on was his lips, juicy, plump like persimmon - fleshy and sweet. With a cigarette dangling from my lips, I swished my and flicked, the scent of my perfume pervading and trespassing every crevice of his pores. I had him hooked.
The night went on like a tawdry country song, a glance here, a subtle pass there, a touch, a smile and it carried on and on like a lustful poker, a scintillating mambo between to complete strangers who were obviously attracted to each other. Minutes pass by and finally it was to grab a cab as was customary and time head home. He followed me outside and I was listless, and in rapt attention to what he had to say. I haven't felt that sexy in a while and the bourbon didn't help either (then again the week before, I felt sexy and then blacked out but thats another story for another moment).
As I was fumbling around my purse for a light he flipped his and there we were again outside, like two far off tribes sending smoke signals into the night sky. I was trying to catch every moment and take it in. A few quick exchanges inside the club had turned into denouments of scintillating glances of passion. The moment quickly moved as fast as it could and then climbing into the cab, we rode home to my place. The burden of fabric quickly became this struggle between our skins, pushing, pulling our lips had finally met, and there we were, two strangers madly an exacerbatingly attempting to free ourselves of whatever inhibitions we had, a silent soliloquy, a tango of derivative emotions.
A kiss here, a caress there and the wafting scent of incense and the scene of misanthropic disilluionment cast an amber glow against our bodies. Intertwined we made love, like two schoolboys captive of our imagination not really knowing how to react and act, how to return. Like volley it was back and forth, wet , slick and soulful. Slippery touches, engaging kisses, clumsy tousling of hair that seemed to have infinite possibilities on and on it went.
Ill never forget the way his hands grappled my skin like he was hoping for more than just sighs and whimpers of feeling. For once the ice had melted and I was being made love to by someone who knew what they were doing. It was a very pleasant surprise. And as quickly as it had manifested, so to did it end. He left his number , even though I knew it was a situation where I would never see him again, but alas for that moment, I felt a sense of validation that I haven't felt in quite sometime.
(to be continued...)
