I saw her sitting in the coffee shop, lost in a book while holding a big, oversized coffee mug in her tiny little hands.
It’s funny how I find myself drinking coffee when it’s ninety degrees out and so humid you can hardly breathe. But somehow, that cup of java keeps me going, the rich, acid-bitter taste grounding me, blocking out all the crap of a lousy day in what has got to be one of the worst weeks of all time.
I’d seen her here a few times before, always on her own, reading a book. I’m usually just having some down-time myself but a few weeks ago I realized it was like she was becoming familiar to me, like she was a part of the shop or something. If she wasn’t there, it just didn’t seem like the place was the same — we were the two long-term regulars there who never talked to each other. She’d be reading a book, I’d be reading the paper or looking through some work or just lost in thought. On our own.
I looked more closely at her fingers. I hadn’t realized just how tiny and delicate they were but the mug was absolutely huge in her hands. She’s petite but not one of those waif-like, model types you could snap in two with a good hug. Her slender, narrow waist flared out to the kind of hips and ass that grace the classic Latina body, and although her shoulders were slightly rounded, as she read, I noticed her breasts had a nice slope to them… as if on cue, she stretched and I really saw them for the first time, full and enticing.
I suddenly realized I was doing a full-out ogle. Not the kind of thing I usually do but there’s something about her that was intriguing to me. Maybe it was the way she was perched on her stool like a little bird, delicate and precise. Or maybe it was that I’d had a long bitch of a week and I needed something to distract me. Her focus on the book was so intense I gave myself permission to enjoy the view — her dark hair, cut short, her skin pale but with that healthy glow that always makes me think of cream.
I started to wonder what she would smell like up-close, what it would feel like to wrap my arms around her waist and crush her body against mine, to feel the swell of her breasts flattening against my chest, what it would be like to cup my hands against her hips and pull her to me, her breath hot and moist on my neck.
I was totally nailed. She hadn’t looked up from her book but she knew I was staring at her while thinking about doing terrific, naughty things to her body. My cock, which had been stirring while my mind wandered, jumped as if it was caught red-handed too and now I had to face the music. Well, what the hell… it HAD been a bitch of a week.
“Yeah, I am. Couldn’t help it, really.”
“And why is that?”
“Well, the way I figure it, we already know each other. I mean, you’re in here just about every time I am, right?”
“Well, probably. I’m here a lot…”
And so, after months of sharing the same space for a few hours at a time, we talked. The fact that I spend ten hours a day with a telephone essentially attached to my ear while making deals and negotiating contracts with corporate types who don’t have the morals and common sense God gave a wombat actually seemed to interest her.
It turned out she was an artist — which shouldn’t have surprised me, since her clothes were usually offbeat yet stylish and she always had this intense focus while reading.
She explained to me she worked in multiple forms and combined the spiritual, the mundane and the sexual into her work. Although I do appreciate art and every once in a while have even been known to go to museums, I confessed I didn’t know much about it but I’d had a few religious experiences in combining the sexual and the mundane.
She laughed, raised an eyebrow in a way that made me wonder whether it was an appraisal or a challenge and asked me if that was the best pick-up line I had.
“No,” I said, “It’s just that I’m an incorrigible flirt and it’s been a long week. But what you’re working on sounds pretty cool. Is your stuff in any of the galleries in town?”
She told me no, which was a real shame — I’d hoped to see what her interpretation of combining the sexual and the mundane looked like.
However, she informed me that she happened to live right around the corner. “Would you like to see some of my work there?”
I stepped through the door of her third-floor walk-up and was stunned.
Her place was a complete frenzy of work and life, a tiny, cramped studio with all kinds of pieces and works in progress all over the place. Materials, clothes, canvases, fabric, paints, shoes, tiles, brushes — a complete artistic clutter. The only neat space in the chaos was the bed, which I noticed was tidily made and totally free of mess. I turned back to the art, and was struck by the power of it. There were beautiful figures and brilliant colors. I got very quiet as I looked at the pieces, taking in the powerful images which they evoked with this kind of heightened sensuality, as if each work was, in its turn, seducing me.
For twenty minutes or so we didn’t say a word as she showed me sculptures and paintings and puppets and jewelry and figures and mosaics. She just stood silently and watched me take it all in.
I suddenly realized I could feel my pulse quickening and my cock which hadn’t really given up on those wandering thoughts in the coffee shop, was now obviously hard, lengthening down my thigh. She didn’t seem to notice this, though — her eyes were on my face, watching me experience her work.
Suddenly, she was in my arms and I’m not sure how it happened, but her lips were on mine. Her tongue snaked into my mouth, flickering against the tip of mine, teasing, inviting as my arms encircled her waist. I could feel my heart beat faster as she pressed her body to mine and I knew she could feel my hardness against her thigh. Her hands raked through my hair as I hungrily kissed her back and began to hear these little whimpers.
She was as completely into this as I was.
It was difficult to move in her apartment without knocking something over, so I picked her up, her legs wrapping around my waist as we kissed, her mouth hungrily sucking on my lips as my hands cupped her ass, supporting her.
She began to move in my arms, grinding against me as I held her suspended, the bulge of my stiff cock meeting the heat of her pussy, straining to tear through my jeans and plunge deep into her. Her body was undulating in my arms as she rode my bulge and I turned in place, leaning her against the wall and running my hands down her sides to her waist, peeling her shirt off.
I could see her pebble-hard nipples under her bra as she released the clasp with a wicked gleam in her eye. As she released her full breasts, I lowered my head to them. I felt like an animal, sucking her nipple hard into my mouth as her back arched and a loud moan escaped her lips and turned into a cry as my teeth clamped down and tugged firmly, drawing her breast out away from her body. I could feel the fullness of its weight hanging from the nipple as she twisted her head from side to side in a rush if intense sensation.
Her eyes were closed and I could feel her wetness soaking through her g-string, her skirt bunched up high on her thighs.
“Ahh, fuck, yess,” she gasped. “Like that.”
My teeth tugged harder at her nipple and she bucked in my arms, lost in the pain and the pleasure of it.
She reached her hand down between us to find her clit and began to stroke herself — slowly at first, then faster. I could feel her fingertips on my cock through the denim as her body began to shake, my tongue fluttering across her sensitive nipples as she suddenly convulsed, spasming into a sharp, sweet orgasm with an “oh!” as I held her there, shaking against the wall.
She caught her breath and then undid my belt, pushing my jeans and my boxers to the floor with her feet, my cock springing up hard and slapping her in the ass. She laughed at this as she wrapped her tiny fingers around it and guided me to her, placing the tip of my length between the lips of her quim, slick and swollen with her juices.
“You think that’s funny?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” she replied.
“Okay then,” I said, “let’s see how funny this is.”
I held her there, just the tip of me poised at the brink of her, pulling my head away from her breasts as I waited.
I could feel her cunt grasping for more and her eyes widened as she slowly began to realize I was in control. As I watched her begin to plead silently for more, I slowly slipped just the head of my shaft into her pussy. The heat was amazingly intense, and I could feel the walls of her canal ripple around me but I held back and began to move ever so slowly inside her, just the first inch of me, circling my hips at as maddeningly slow a pace as I could stand.
She began to pant as I continued to tease her, her eyes pleading with me but that wasn’t enough. I held her there, barely impaled and watched the ripple of her abs as she tried in vain to draw me into her. I picked up the pace a little but let only the first inch or so slip into her, savoring the sound as her panting became louder. I was determined to hold back.
And then she began to beg me. “Oh god, you fucking tease, you’re killing me… fuck… please… please, lover…. I need you… don’t keep me like this… you’re driving me crazy, you bastard… fuck… FUCK… OH, FUCK, PLEASE, FUCK ME!!”
With that, I drove through her engorged lips, plunging deep into her wetness with one full stroke and she cried out.
I pulled all the way out and drove deep into her again, slamming her against the wall, feeling her juices flow over my balls as I began to fuck her with long, hard, steady, deliberate strokes, her eyes closed tight as she rode my shaft hard. I pounded into her again and again, lifting her legs up higher so I could drive even deeper, pinning her to the wall with my cock driving up into her body.
I could feel her orgasm begin to build up inside her, the sweat of her body running between her breasts as I fucked her harder and I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer. My hands moved to cup her ass more firmly, to hold her up as I pounded into her and my finger found her anus.
Her eyes flew open, gasping, “yesssss” as the tip slipped into her ass and triggered a huge orgasm, sending her over the edge in a massive wave, her pussy spasming around my cock, gripping me from within.
Suddenly I could feel my balls churning in response, and I shouted out, “Oh, FUCK YEAH, I’M GONNA CUM!” as I slammed my cock deep into her, driving her up and hard against the wall, exploding into her with jet after jet of cum.
It went on and on and I felt like it was coming from somewhere deep in my core as my balls erupted into her, flooding her with cum as I yelled a long stream of porn-star obscenities and completely lost myself in the climax of this deliciously hot fuck.
We finished there, gasping against the wall and I fell back with her on top of me, still inside her. I had a sudden fear that I was going to land on something valuable or sharp but we landed on the only clear thing in the apartment — the bed.
We started to laugh, because it was funny and she lifted her self off me with a “wow” and we caught our breath.
She turned and looked at me with that raised eyebrow again with that trademark mischievous gleam in her eye, and said, “You know… payback’s a total bitch.”
Suddenly, it didn’t seem like such a lousy week after all.