Forty Five 03.29.10

The recorded sounds of a thunderstorm crackle over speakers as a fine mist shines down upon the produce section at Safeway. You click up to me on black heels bearing ruffled edges. Instantly I understand why foot fetishists get hard for the cleavage between toes displayed in heels like yours. They look the way demi-bras let the puckered edges of nipples peak out to any voyeuristic eyes curious enough to wander to their charms. For as long as I can remember, I have always been a voyeur. I've never been one for flashy shows or exhibitionism. But these days, I have every reason to put myself on display.

My eyes scaled your flexed calves and crawled up your supple thighs into the grey pencil shirt that flared around your generously rounded ass. I was wet and wanting before my eyes even alighted to your breasts peeking from your black oxford. Your Wedjat sparkled and did its best to hide the purple blush of the chain of bite hickeys I left around the borders of your breasts the night before. My face stretched taut with a grin reserved for those who know all too well the way you shake and shudder when they fuck you.

It wasn't a mystery to you what was about to happen. This is how I lured you out of the house with me to begin with. First, with the promise of public sex which I know you love so well, and then the offer of a hand cooked meal I would later prepare for us. I can't tell you how many times we had been in this same Safeway when we first met and courted. Over all the long months and years we had been together, I had fantasized about fucking you in the grubby bathroom, but I never had the nerve before now.

You asked me earlier what changed in me to bring out the exhibitionist in me and bring me around to the other side of lust in public. I told you: You. But the answer was only a half truth. Later I expounded at your prompting that it was really also me that has changed. Having put so much work into overcoming my pervasive social anxiety as of late, I felt myself swell with the thought of showing you the desire I felt for you down to the very marrow of my bones. To show you in public was always what I had wanted to do, but never had I dared. Gone were the old worries of being caught and being reprimanded for it. All that I wanted now was to feel you tremble against me as I whispered words so dark and sweet into the helix of your ears it would make your head spin while I touched you, there.

Fingers mated between each others in a warm embrace, I led you knowingly to the bathroom. As we walked through the aisles, I saw the eyes of many men glide across your curves. Yes, I smirked, be jealous. The women were no better with indignant but curious stares. We made such an attractive couple and I found myself snarl. But I appeared to be smiling at those whose eyes I would catch first on you, then see them flit to me and start with confusion and fear. Yes, I smiled, be curious. Be upset that you just imagined us fucking like a dirty picture show in your mind they would have whooped your ass for watching in Sunday school. Be outraged that we would wear the sexuality we bear for each other out in the open, unabashed, shamelessly, rubbing your nose in it. A cartoon super villain's laugh roared in my skull as I tugged you closer to the bathroom nestled in a crummy hallway between the pharmacy and the butcher shop.

"How quaint," I mused as you tried for the door. Viagra, Vicoden, syringes and Sweet meats dripping with fresh blood were about to bookend our torrid acts of public wanting. We had to wait, for there was someone using it for a more natural purpose. As we did I thought about how all these people were going to be out here, shopping for groceries, checking off lists on crumbled paper or mentally scrawled on the backs of their eyelids. Life would go on, boring, ordinary, and banal while I would soon slip my tongue into your mouth and feel your teeth tugging at my bottom lip. Electricity shot along the back of my optic nerve and I felt my pupils dilate like twin eclipses mirroring each other.

A middle aged woman exited the bathroom, her eyes scanned first over you, then to me and she seemed shocked for the briefest of moments. That is, before her eyes wandered to the ground and glazed over, pushing away from us in a waddle I pitied because it bore testament to her aching joints. The click of your heels brought me about center as you pushed the door open in front of me. I lingered for a moment, watching your backside stretch the fabric of your pencil skirt around its form and the small of your back flatten into a deliciously curving bow. When we walked inside, the bathroom was just as I remembered it. Limp rags of transparent tissue lay strewn about the floor, the beige tiling on the floor and wall held so much grim and soil it looked as though someone mopped the floor with a bucket of swill. Love and sex in the time of Cholera indeed.

This shabby bathroom should have been repulsive to me but instead it was oddly romantic, because it meant, you could not touch a single thing for fear of being contaminated by waste. It meant the only thing you would be able to hold onto, the only way to keep from slipping to that scuffed stained floor was to cling to me, your harbor in this tempest of need. I moved towards you suddenly and wrapped my arm underneath your rib cage. Holding you to my chest, my breasts flattened against yours which swelled into my vision. Our lips tangled in a slippery exchange, our tongues enmeshed with the heat of each others mouths. My hand parted your thighs and squeezed upwards through the confines of your silken flesh which were held together by the trappings of your skirt.

You wore stockings and at first I found myself dismayed because I had told you to wear something that would give me easy access to your soaking cunt. But as my hand crawled further north, I felt the fresh heat of your naked skin and the moistening lace of your panties where you had torn a hole into the crotch of your stockings. "That's my girl" I felt my mind purr, as my hand sought the quickest way around the edge of the lace and jewels hugging your quivering snatch. I pulled the fabric away and felt the moist heat surge like a blast of steam when one walks into a tobacconist's humidifier. My fingers traced through your heated tangled curls, but soon they parted your wetness and found what I desperately wanted, your hardened clit. Straining against me in your heels, leaning into the staccato flick of my fingertips, you ground your cunt against me and wrapped your fingernails into my skin like little knife points.

You trembled you whole form sagging against me and I felt my cunt begin to drool in my jeans, the heat becoming distracting. I trailed ravenous kisses down your cleavage and then slid my tongue up your neck to your ear. Pressing my face into your downy ringlets I whispered to you how hard your clit was and how much your body shook in my arms. As I spoke to you, I revealed what I had thought earlier, how all those people in the store were outside just feet away shopping and completely unaware of how I was fucking you in this instant. You whimpered against me and I cooed a soothing "Shhhh..." to you before clamping my mouth upon yours again. You broke our kiss, clawing your nails into my arms, starting to buck and sway with buckling knees. Your clit was as hard as a ruby under my finger tip and I let the slippery pads of the tips of my fingers drive you mad with the orgasm that was suddenly threatening to break over you.

You clawed your leg up calve and thigh. I was standing on braced legs as I abused your clit and told you how I love it when you tremble. I told you I wanted you to come for me, and you insisted your were close. How close, I had no idea, as usually it takes a bit longer for you to come like this, especially standing up. But only an instant later your hips exploded in spasms, your form when limp and rigid in waves, heaving against me in a silent breathy explosion of gasps you almost dragged me down to the floor. I gathered you up and felt you spasm in my arms, your clit throbbing against my fingers as you came. You face contorted in a silent scream and your cheek slide down my collar bone going lax with your fading orgasm. You stilled and panted against me.

When I was sure you were steady, you wound your hands up to my shoulders and stepped away on heels that didn't miss a dime. You were as solid as you ever were. The whole exchange felt far too brief, and I found myself alternatively satisfied in a smug way that I could make you come so quickly, but also defiantly petulant that the moment did not last longer. No matter, there will plenty more adventures, we would soon discover. As we walked from the bathroom together, the blush of your freshly fucked glow kissed the apples of your cheeks. We sauntered out into the parking lot and I killed the fresh air with the smoke from my cigarette.