Stuck-Up Suit
Page 15
Laughing to myself, I closed the laptop and finished my Pastrami on Rye. This woman was even making me eat like shit. I made a few business calls and checked in on Meme at the nursing home before opening my laptop once again. A response from Ask Ida was sitting in my inbox.
Dear Stuck-Up Suit,
It’s quite possible you are drawing the wrong conclusion. There is no evidence to suggest that this woman is ugly. Perhaps, she is just not that into you. You may also want to look in the mirror and consider the fact that an ugly personality is a far greater deterrent than an ugly face ever could be.
Bending my head back in laughter, I marveled at this woman’s wit. That mouth on her…I couldn’t wait to fuck it. Aside from the fact that she was funny, honest, beautiful, sexy, and unlike anyone I’d ever been with, there was a part of her that seemed vulnerable and guarded. I wanted to know more about why she was so afraid of me. This kind of curiosity was not characteristic of me at all. While that was unsettling, my need to get to know her superseded everything else.
***
SITTING ACROSS FROM HER on the train without blatantly ogling her was truly an art form. Much like a ventriloquist who operates a dummy without moving his lips, I had to somehow stare at her without her knowing.
This particular morning, it was really a challenge to keep it subtle, not only because she looked so goddamn hot, but because she wasn’t alone. A heavily tattooed man who looked way more her type than I was, sat next to her. They were talking and laughing, and I wanted to basically snap his pencil neck.
My blood really started pumping when he leaned over and kissed her. I couldn’t tell if it was on her face or her lips because of my only being able to sneak glances. He then got up and exited the train, leaving her behind.
The jealousy within me that previously had been lingering under the surface had now become blinding. It was so blinding, in fact, that I wasn’t even thinking when I suddenly typed out a text.
Who the fuck is he?
She seemed to freeze before slowly looking over at me. Her already pale skin turned nearly white. Her head had lifted and met my gaze instantaneously. She knew it was me.
Had she always known we took the same train?
I thought about it some more. Without any hesitation, her eyes had landed straight on mine as if she knew exactly where to look.
She’d been pretending not to know who I was all this time.
She must have looked up my picture online. I couldn’t figure out how else she knew it was me, but that really didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that I was now face to face with the woman who had infiltrated my mind, body, and soul from the moment she opened her big mouth on that intercom.
My stop was next, but I wasn’t going to get off. Well, truthfully, I was getting off on something else: this highly tense staring contest. It dawned on me that she was also absorbing the fact that I, too, knew her identity.
She suddenly got up. Her stop must have been coming up next. I followed suit, walking over to the exit and standing right behind her. She was staring at my reflection in the glass of the doors. My mouth curved into a smug smile. I was like a Cheshire cat who’d finally caught his little mouse. A hint of amusement shone through her expression.
When the doors opened, I followed her out, walking quietly by her side. We were both moving very slowly, unsure of where to go or what to do. When the rush of people seemed to all disappear up the escalator to the second level, we were nearly alone on the subway platform. I suddenly gripped her waist, forcing her to turn around and look at me.
Soraya’s chest was heaving, and I could feel her body trembling. My own heart was racing. To know that I was having that kind of an effect on her was surprising—arousing. So fucking arousing.
The smell of her powdery skin was practically making me high. That, in combination with the warmth of her body so close to mine, had given me a raging hard on. I was like a teenager about to cream my pants in a three-thousand-dollar suit.
When I slowly moved toward her, she walked backward toward a large, concrete pillar. I backed her up against it and wrapped my hands around her cheeks, planting my lips over her mouth. She opened for me as my eager tongue went in search of hers. All life around me disappeared. The sound of surrender she made into my mouth egged me on to kiss her deeper. Her warm, ample tits felt like an electric blanket on my chest. The cold metal of her tongue ring against the heat of my own tongue sent what felt like spasms through me. If we weren’t in public, I couldn’t imagine being able to stop at just kissing her. I wanted nothing more than to take her on this platform.
She pushed me off of her and cleared her throat. “How did you know it was me?”
Dear Stuck-Up Suit,
It’s quite possible you are drawing the wrong conclusion. There is no evidence to suggest that this woman is ugly. Perhaps, she is just not that into you. You may also want to look in the mirror and consider the fact that an ugly personality is a far greater deterrent than an ugly face ever could be.
Bending my head back in laughter, I marveled at this woman’s wit. That mouth on her…I couldn’t wait to fuck it. Aside from the fact that she was funny, honest, beautiful, sexy, and unlike anyone I’d ever been with, there was a part of her that seemed vulnerable and guarded. I wanted to know more about why she was so afraid of me. This kind of curiosity was not characteristic of me at all. While that was unsettling, my need to get to know her superseded everything else.
***
SITTING ACROSS FROM HER on the train without blatantly ogling her was truly an art form. Much like a ventriloquist who operates a dummy without moving his lips, I had to somehow stare at her without her knowing.
This particular morning, it was really a challenge to keep it subtle, not only because she looked so goddamn hot, but because she wasn’t alone. A heavily tattooed man who looked way more her type than I was, sat next to her. They were talking and laughing, and I wanted to basically snap his pencil neck.
My blood really started pumping when he leaned over and kissed her. I couldn’t tell if it was on her face or her lips because of my only being able to sneak glances. He then got up and exited the train, leaving her behind.
The jealousy within me that previously had been lingering under the surface had now become blinding. It was so blinding, in fact, that I wasn’t even thinking when I suddenly typed out a text.
Who the fuck is he?
She seemed to freeze before slowly looking over at me. Her already pale skin turned nearly white. Her head had lifted and met my gaze instantaneously. She knew it was me.
Had she always known we took the same train?
I thought about it some more. Without any hesitation, her eyes had landed straight on mine as if she knew exactly where to look.
She’d been pretending not to know who I was all this time.
She must have looked up my picture online. I couldn’t figure out how else she knew it was me, but that really didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that I was now face to face with the woman who had infiltrated my mind, body, and soul from the moment she opened her big mouth on that intercom.
My stop was next, but I wasn’t going to get off. Well, truthfully, I was getting off on something else: this highly tense staring contest. It dawned on me that she was also absorbing the fact that I, too, knew her identity.
She suddenly got up. Her stop must have been coming up next. I followed suit, walking over to the exit and standing right behind her. She was staring at my reflection in the glass of the doors. My mouth curved into a smug smile. I was like a Cheshire cat who’d finally caught his little mouse. A hint of amusement shone through her expression.
When the doors opened, I followed her out, walking quietly by her side. We were both moving very slowly, unsure of where to go or what to do. When the rush of people seemed to all disappear up the escalator to the second level, we were nearly alone on the subway platform. I suddenly gripped her waist, forcing her to turn around and look at me.
Soraya’s chest was heaving, and I could feel her body trembling. My own heart was racing. To know that I was having that kind of an effect on her was surprising—arousing. So fucking arousing.
The smell of her powdery skin was practically making me high. That, in combination with the warmth of her body so close to mine, had given me a raging hard on. I was like a teenager about to cream my pants in a three-thousand-dollar suit.
When I slowly moved toward her, she walked backward toward a large, concrete pillar. I backed her up against it and wrapped my hands around her cheeks, planting my lips over her mouth. She opened for me as my eager tongue went in search of hers. All life around me disappeared. The sound of surrender she made into my mouth egged me on to kiss her deeper. Her warm, ample tits felt like an electric blanket on my chest. The cold metal of her tongue ring against the heat of my own tongue sent what felt like spasms through me. If we weren’t in public, I couldn’t imagine being able to stop at just kissing her. I wanted nothing more than to take her on this platform.
She pushed me off of her and cleared her throat. “How did you know it was me?”
