There is something between us, a binding chemistry; biologically, spiritually. It’s so damn near unexplainable.
Every day I would go to my favorite café, Tingzon’s Café. Oh and sorry for those expecting me to say Starbucks, yea sarcasm intended.
WARNING: to you all reading this I will be on occasions interjecting my off-the-cuff emotions. Just to let you know that if you are easily offended by things then keep reading I will offend you even more.
Now where was I? Oh yes, Tingzon’s is a quaint, little hole in the wall that serves the best hot-buttered Blueberry muffins I have ever tasted, but I am digressing again. Back to my story here. Each day when I come to the café door, he is there, looking gorgeous and delicious. He opens the door for me. Each time the door opens I nearly faint from delight: his sweet smelling cologne and that body of his, which I cannot help but to imagine it to be firm and fit underneath his fine clothing; sometimes a jersey outfit and other times a professional, business attire.
Each day we exchange smiles and I swear each time I feel my body become warm. Each time he says hello to me in that smooth alto voice; that’s the moment I become wet.
That was part one. Now part two. Are you ready?
Well. I certainly wasn’t expecting him to ask me out on a date. I mean I was putting out some strong signs, but I simply write him off as part of my daily routine. I rise, wash and dress, leave for work, stop at Tingzon’s for coffee and muffin, flash flirtatious glances with hot guy that is always leaving as I enter, think about fucking his brains out a bit, then have my morning snack and continue with work and other as usual activities.
On this particular morning, he flashed his glistening smile at me while holding the door as usual. I did the same while saying, “Thanks”. Only he did not leave the café afterwards. He called after me. “Excuse me.”
I stop dead heat and turn on my heels. Seeing that he was talking to me, I nearly collapsed from excitement. Truth is I wanted this guy to talk to me. Hell I wanted this guy to do anything with my body that he could to please it. It had been awhile since I had some good sex. My last boyfriend was an occasional booty call, but that has all gone out the window since he has found what he deems “the one” … whatever the hell that means. My body was craving a good hard one inside me and this guy looked to fit the profile. “Yes,” I said coyly and feigning an unfazed by his gorgeousness look that he saw right through.
“Don’t you think that it’s rather peculiar that we brush past each other every morning with only glares, smiles, and simple salutations?” He said with an effortless calm that made me hot inside. I liked the fact that he used the words peculiar and salutations. I don’t know about most ladies but a smart, well dressed man is sexy as hell and makes me super horny.
“I haven’t given it much thought,” again I try to act unfazed by his smoothness, but a smile stays on my face.
“Mmm. I was hoping you had, but since you haven’t and I have already made my confession to you. I think it’s only fair that you hear me out further,” He smiled with his cup of coffee in his left hand.
Oh he’s a cool motherfucker, I am thinking. then I responded, “Well I might be willing to let you. Your smile is pretty convincing.”
He let out a masculine chortle that doubled his sexy points with me. “Okay. I’m thinking we wouldn’t have too much time here for me to plead my case for getting you to extend our conversations more, but I’m willing to try. Or we could meet tonight at a nice bistro called Fanon’s later on?”
“How much later, mister? You know I must protect myself from being taken advantage of.”
“Mmmm indeed you do. You have my respect for that. And I promise I will be on my best behavior. All you have to do is agree.”
“You make it hard for a woman to resist.”
“Great. 7:30 tonight isn’t too late for you is it?”
“Okay. I’ll meet you there. Mr …?”
“Oh yes James. James Levlin. And you are?”
“Beautiful. I’ll see you tonight.” He said as he flashed me another smile and turned on his heels and left the café.
I turned and noticed an old couple sitting in the corner staring at me with a smile resting upon their faces. I smiled and went to get in line for my muffin and coffee. It became aware to me that he had not asked me for my phone number, but I’m glad he had not because I could barely move as I realized I had one of those moments again. Damn him and his hotness.
Fanon’s was a French bistro with only a few tables and exquisite smelling food. It was also only a few blocks away from my apartment. We sat across from one another exchanging glances and undressing each other with our eyes. I couldn’t help it. I kept imagining his taut body moving in up, down, and circular motions atop of mines.
I kept trying to erase the thoughts away but was finding it tremendously hard. He tried speaking to me a few times before he interrupted my thoughts completely when he said, “It’s kinda hard huh?”
Stunned I thought he was reading my mind and I said, “I don’t know you tell me.”
“Huh?” He said with a shy masculinity that made him even hotter.
“I’m sorry. I was thinking about something else. Work actually.” Okay so I lied. You would have too if you were in my position. I hated to ruin one of the best dates and with one of the hottest guys I had been with since forever, but every time he moved his lips, every gesture he made, when he spoke, the way he used words, his cologne, the clothes he was wearing, and my horniness was making things really complicated.
Finally, he said, “we could always get these to go Jane and do this again if you need to rest?”
Dammit this hot fucker is caring. I wanted to jump over the table and do him then. Hoping I could pull myself together, I acquiesced and agreed to meet him again this Friday. He had the waiter bag up the food we hadn’t yet received. I was a bit embarrassed but things inside of me was becoming unbearable. I could sense his growing discomfort too.
He didn’t live too far away from the restaurant as well as my apartment. So we walked until I was in front of my apartment building. Just as he was about to say goodbye, I grabbed his shirt sleeve and with a blind accuracy I kissed him, hot and heavily. He dropped his bag of food and I pulled away hearing it hit the ground with a light crash. “I normally don’t do this,” I confessed.
“Hey no complaints here,” he said then kissed me back. He stopped, looked into my eyes, lifted me into his arms and carried me through the doors that led to the vestibule and had my body pressed against the nearest wall. I was breathing heavily as he managed to expertly expose my breast and started decorating them with licks and sucks.
“Ooooh shit,” I moaned as he continued devouring my breasts while inserting his fingers between my legs and massaging my swollen clit with his middle and index fingers. I didn’t want to do it here in the dark vestibule. I was struggling to release myself from him so I could get us into my apartment, which incidentally was only several feet to the right of us. I couldn’t tell him to stop and let’s go inside. I was moaning and squirming my body, pushing it towards his like an uncontrollable gravitational force. I squealed as he managed to remove his fingers from my pussy and placed his lips on it sucking and tonguing it.
“Shit! Shit!” I knew what was coming next, but he was versatile with his body and knew how to change positions with quick precision. In a matter of minutes he had kissed and tongued my pussy so good that I was wetter than an Olympic Swimmer at the end of a race. And he was soon sucking my nipples again. I felt the tip of his dick brushing across my pussy. He had it in desperate need of being fucked. “Fuck it,” I said on the brink of gasping for air and pushed my pussy against his dick when he tried to tease it again. I heard him grunt. I had him. He had me. We were in the moment when nothing else mattered but achieving that critical, amazing orgasm. It was like poetry, our rhythmic sexual inertia. He pushed, I pushed. I tried to pull my body away and he pushed harder. He tried to pull back and I pushed my body against his more, harder. We couldn’t stop. His dick was hard as a brick, thick as a bratwurst, and long as a foot. He knew how to use it. Screams and grunts escaped us carelessly until we came.
As we finished, we thought we heard a neighbor open their door on the second and third floors. Laughing uncontrollably like two friends having a wild, drunken night on the town, we hurried into my apartment.
So that is the story on how I met the love of my life. We have been together for ten years now. Surprisingly our sex is still this intense. We don’t confess this to any of our friends or couples for reasons of envy that is found in their eyes when I unashamedly admitted to them all at a gathering that I gave James a blow job on an elevator the night before and that we both enjoyed it. They were talking about how the sex ends in relationships after so many years. I naively offered a counter-response. My “Duh” moment. James admitted that the guys were jealous when he said that I did a stripper routine for him and fucked him like a porn star for his last birthday. We laughed as he said, “I’ll never do that again with the boys.” They can’t handle those types of stories, especially, when they’re not getting any themselves.
Here’s the irony in all of this to me. James and I still frequent Tingzon’s and have since begun sitting in the seat where the old couple was eyeing us and smiling as we were having our moment. The older couple has since moved to a warm city in Mexico while James and I sit and watch waiting for other singles to experience the moment he and I had and the couple before us had.
Kiss-kiss and good day to all.
Sydney Racine is an erotic writer that resides in Toronto, Canada.
“The Moment”©2016 Sydney Racine