I did my job and when I finished, about fifteen until eight, I went into the store bathroom and cleaned up. Like any guy, I wondered what would happen, but this situation was different.
I hope every man on Earth gets to experience this at least once…an incredibly attractive girl that will do ANYTHING YOU WANT. Those three words “ANYTHING YOU WANT” can spawn more fantasy than Tolkien, I tell you.
After I cleaned up, I sat in the store office, sipping a beer, having a cigarette and decided what would happen. She knocked on the store’s back door at exactly seven-fifty-five. I called out for her to come in and she did.
In that hour she had showered and changed. Her blonde hair curled down deliciously over her shoulders. Her thin, white blouse fell just short enough to reveal a tan line of midriff and her tight jeans looked almost painted on. Best of all she wore sharp stiletto heels. I love stiletto heels. And she knew it.
At eighteen I might have been playful and allowed a few minutes of banter, but I was thirty. At thirty, you know what you want. I wanted her, she wanted me, and that meant the conversational foreplay was done. This was sexual solitaire. My game entirely.
“Lock the door” I said.
She nodded, turned and twisted the deadbolt. Now we were absolutely alone.
“Come here” I said.
I noticed more detail with every step she took toward me. The light shadows of blue eye shadow. The dim black outline of her bra beneath her blouse. The arch of her feet beneath the thin black straps of her heels. The shimmer of her pink lipstick. And that perfume… it floated into my nose when she stood inside the doorway of the office. Some men might consider that too much perfume, but there’s no such thing as too much perfume, if the perfume’s as attractive as the woman.
She stood there, hands on her hips and smiling. She waited for me to make the first move. I sighed and set down my beer.
I stood up.
As much as I believe in don’t-fuck-around sex, I also believe kissing is important. No matter how insistent or dominating the act, a slow, tender kiss is always the way to start. Women appreciate this because it demonstrates that although I might treat them like an object for the next hour or two, I don’t see them that way.
Also it gets them wet.
I stood over her, leaned down, cupped her warm cheeks in one hand and kissed her, pressing my lips softly against hers. She met my kiss, resting her fingertips lightly on my hips and when her mouth opened, I flicked my tongue in lightly. Our lips and tongue met as tenderly and slowly, and when I broke off the kiss, she said breathlessly, “You know how to kiss…”
I didn’t say anything. Instead, I sat back down on the office chair and rolled it back, putting a few feet between myself and the desk and pointed to the ground.
“Stand there” I said.