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gokedik
August 28th, 2014, 04:29 AM
I came to Macy’s to shoplift, and she, to find black, fish net stockings. We ran into each other asking for help from a clueless employee that felt overwhelmed by our questions. Our eyes met and comets changed directions, solar flares raged and supernova’s exploded. The changing room was just over her shoulder. After the confused employee saw the connection made, he backed up disoriented, apprehensive and finally, quit talking. Our attentions met in a nearly visible spark. We turned each other on like the button to an inter-ballistic missile, but being a woman, she would linger first, she asked what was I was looking for, I said, “You, apparently.”

“Good, then,” She grabbed my hand and ran for the changing room. This spontaneity I admired and found sexy as hell.
“I’ll change and you can tell me if they fit.” And she left me out side the changing room labeled Women with the sign with the figure of a lady with a skirt. I waited and waited and thought of the hotness of anonymous sex. Especially with a figure like she has. Maybe one child was my guess. I’ve gotten pretty lucky with reading women.
“C’mere” The cracked door seems to be saying. It alarmed me but went to where the sound came from. I went it, closed it behind me and she said, “What’d’ya think?” Curving one leg over the other in black fish-nets with bare feet and a man’s shirt with rolled up sleeves and he arms spread wide.
“I’ll tell you what I think” And I nearly ran the ten feet that separated us into the arch that her arms made and lifted her up, smashing my lips onto her’s and hitting the wall with my hand palming her head, then I was in her mouth desperately searching for the rest of her. She didn’t seem to mind and I felt an energy that told me she was in charge. She pushed me away and I set her down.

“You never told me if you like them.” She turned around slow and lifted up her shirt showing her butt.
“Woah. You look great! But who’s shirt is that?” I said.
“I thought you might like it.” she said Then she pulled me down and spread her legs. I was more than happy to oblige. She must have just gotten out of the shower. Clean scent and bare taste. She pushed my head and bucked her hips but did not toss me off, only making it worse, or better. Depending on your point of view. And for me it was better. For a person waiting for the room it would be bad. After a while she pulled me over her and started unbuttoning my pants I reached in my back pocket for my wallet and a condom. I stopped and quickly slipped on protection.

She wailed in ecstacy upon entry. I tried to cover her mouth but I only got my fingers in and she began to suck on them. But it made her a little bit quieter. I was giving her all I had, hard, but not necessarily fast. She had begun to sweat and I licked the drops running down the side of her face. She wailed through my fingers and with her smoky eyes closed, for the last time. and pushed me away before I could finish. After I pulled them up, I started buttoning my pants.

“You are genuinely pretty.” I said. Aching in my jeans.
“Thank you, I model occasionally.” she said with a somber tone.
“Look, I’ve never asked a name in anonymous sex, but, I would like to call you.” I said. She got dressed quickly, strapping on her heels then rattled off a phone number, quick and casual, and left the room. In a flash she was gone, leaving the men’s shirt at her feet. There was no way I would forget that number. Didn’t need any paper. An angel spoke. And , yes, I took that shirt and hung it up.
I went home still not having gotten relief but I kind of liked it, a persistent pain below the belt. She created a memory for me. But I would only take her relief, now, I was enamored, infatuated, intrigued! We connected on a level beyond my experience. It had to be her.

The next day at the same time.
“Ummm...it’s me, from Macy’s.” I said.
“Alright, I’m glad you called...we can do this, but only MY way and only on MY time and no names, the less I know about you, the better, got it”, she said “and only in public?”
“I’m here to serve” I said.
“Then we’ll get along fine.” she said “Meet me in the park at 5.” then she hung up. A direct order from a goddess.
Blinded by lust, remembering how she tasted and with, really, nothing else to do, I entered the park from a side not usually used. As soon as I made it out to the grass, in the shade, I found her to my right. I imagined her doing yoga because she’s so flexible and coincidentally what she had for us was a yoga mat.

“This is all I had in my car.” she said wearing a black, silk, fitted skirt that draped to mid-thigh, then instructed me to sit with my legs in front of me, on the mat. She kneeled down on her bare knees and unbuttoned my pants. Seeing as how I was ready, I , again deftly removed a condom and slipped it on as she straddled me. She rode me like the first time a little girl gets a rocking pony. Having been into tantric sex, in the past, I was able to maintain and focus on her, and allowing her to wail and cry out to God. She rode and rode and moving herself against me as if I were a couch pillow and she was a dog in heat. Her breasts were, I’d say, 34b-c. But I’m not a salesman of women’s products, just have been in this position many times before.

Then she used my weight as a fulcrum and slipped under me and spun me around in one small maneuver. Now, we were face to face. We made eye contact. Then she pushed my shoulders down, and so down I went. Away from her caramel locks, past her fragrant breasts with perky nipples. I knew she was hot, already. To her stomach where I kissed through the material, wishing it was skin.She was already holding her skirt up and I kissed over that and plunged into her hot and seeping fruit. Holding back the thought of attack and chose instead some reckon. I explored the soft flesh with kisses, smelling her, saw it was leaking and lapped up the drops. She was fresh as a daisy. Hearing a moan I continued, pushing her legs open further and got a positive response. I could have laid there all day but she pulled me up quick.

“That couple, right there,” she pointed her finger pointed pink and red “see ‘em”. I was laying on top of her trying to strain to see what she was pointing to and I saw.
“What, they saw us?” I said. “I doubt they even noticed us.”
“You ready,”she asked
“Of course, I’m, ready.” I said
“Let’s go.” and she wrapped her long legs around my back and shook her horse. I, of course, began given it to her like I was the plunger on a needle with life-saving medicine. But I held back, just a little, though, having a hard time though.
“You’re a good fuck. And have amazing control. Tantra, right?” she said as we slowed.
“You don’t want to know, right? I said as was off the races. the sounds coming out of her mouth were interrupted by my thump against her groin. For a few minutes then she grew silent.
“Are we gonna stay all night?” I asked.

“No, of course not, go ahead.” she said. But controlled that also by sensing somehow what was going on inside me. You don’t have to tell me twice and I began to pump her deep, rocking her, back and forth. She got into it, then made me pause and held me back. With each bump a yelp. until she yelled loud and through a bump, I let myself go, hearing the carnal yell of a woman. And held her body against me by lifting her with one arm. I gave her a squeeze. And collapsed. She guessed my cologne and looked like she was going to start reading me but didn’t. As if to hold off for another time. But we were above that by miles. I was an open book and am not impressed when someone reads my outside.

We got up gingerly and I dusted the back of her, squeezing her butt.
“Hey! Break the merchandise...” she said.
“I would never!...Just caressing it.” I say.
“Well, since you were so good.” she said “I believe any way you touched my body it would be passion itself, as if it had never existed.”
“So you’re a poet?"She gave me a serious look, that I understood. We’re not supposed to know each other. “Ha ha, glad to satisfy, any time and all the time.” I said.
“Well, now-” she was cut off.
“Yeah, I know...you gotta go.” I said. I saw emotion in her eyes.
“Yeah, I gotta go.” she said but bit her bottom lip as she turned away.

“Always available!” I shouted as she passed behind a tree. And gone again! She sure knew how to make an exit. We stayed away from each other, well, neither of us called each other. Feeling the draw of attraction, and the responsibility of emotion. Which I would have taken a chance on. But wanted her to call me and not the other way around for childish reasons. Until she did. She wanted to meet in the library, then the courthouse, a park across town and the another mall. I figured she probably has a job where her power is taken away or disallowed. In some stuffy office where work drones on and she is held back. That release felt like he was born again, into the hands of a mystery. That bore a band on her left finger, of gold, symbolizing marriage. I took note of that. Not just it’s presence but curious as to why? Does that add to her fantasy? Or is it a challenge to the men. Are you sure you want to mess with a married woman? I didn’t care, she would not want me if she was being handled properly at home.We were each other’s forbidden fruit, and we were licking our fingers, relishing it. What are those things...commandments? Yeah, written when and by whom? I was fullfiling a woman’s need, a human need. Don’t know what that it is quite yet. But it is DEFINITELY a need and NOT a want.

“Hi, I couldn’t sit with it anymore.” She said “I called because I had your number in my phone.”
“No problem, what’s up?” I said having a strong feeling that pain was coming.
“We gotta stop.” she paused “....aren’t you gonna ask why?”
“Really...I do not want to know.” I said.
“No! You must! It’s because you’re great, so good, I started to feel that I could not do without you, but...my career...only allows for the kind of thing we had, hit and run. I’m not ready for a relationship and I couldn’t have any less than that with you.” she said.
“OK, yeah you’re right I did need to hear that, it’s the most honest anyone has ever been with me, but you’re not coming back, and we’re not meeting, anymore, really?” I said.
“Not now, I mean, no, but if I find room for a lover in my life, I’ll call you...” she said through sniffles.
“Gotta cold, allergies? What’s with the nose?” I said.
“Oh, stop it, see how hard this is for me...You got me...Damn it!” then the phone sounded like it dropped, then I heard crying. Validating my feelings after our first time. And I DID get her. Perhaps too much. Then I started crying for the loss of someone. So close...and yet so far.While laying in bed half-asleep I would grasp for air, dreaming of having ALL of her then waking up, alone.
.

Seedy M.
August 28th, 2014, 01:05 PM
Exceptionally well-done.

gokedik
August 28th, 2014, 03:37 PM
Exceptionally well-done. Thank you, I checked this morning expecting cluster bombs thrown my way, ya' know a bad critique from one of the veteran's of this site that spreads around and NOBODY reads any of your stuff. They still may be on their way but I was messaged by a moderator asking for more explicity. I told him that there was more challenge in writing around that than there is going for it like a hungry dog. And I believed my readers would appreciate my effort. It turns out, however, that he just meant, or now means that he was talking about the title. So, I went back and added or eluded a bit harder to what the picture was in my head. And I learned a lesson about compromising that I will not forget. In the message the moderator sent I questioned as to just whom wanted more me to be more explicit. I'm glad you messaged me. I wanted to get that out to whomever I may have offended. Though, the story, which is really a bit short for me, qualifies as a short story, not a novella or in-between. My best work is in that range. Word-wise. Thank you for your time and consideration.

gokedik
August 28th, 2014, 04:03 PM
to my gay woman friend:

I already apologized through my friend from Panama who commented on 'Pick-pocket' and he said, "Exceptionally well-done' if it came from a woman it would impress me more. Only because I'm, sorta' writing to them. No, I am. Men are too easy and if I can use all of my skill and bring a woman to a sexual scene and make her feel it but not be ashamed, I have done my job. That's what's stuck in my head. I want to be the man who writes to ALL women. Gay, straight, young and old. ALL. I fucking revere women..And not only for the body. I refer to Prince's song, "Kiss". All he's asking for is a woman's, or man's, extra time and their (humble) kiss.