Human Behavior

He looked down and let his hand run smoothly over his black tie as he exited the shop. He calmly looked up and squinted as the sun pierced his eyes, giving the slightest hint of a smile as he headed to his car. Opening the door of his sleek but plain Mitsubishi, he gave a final look around the sun drenched parking lot before opening the door and turning the key, letting Chris Isaak fill the interior with his smooth voice and meticulous guitar pickings.

Michael sighed a pleasant little sigh to himself. Baja Sessions was among his favorites, and it was particularly ideal for the somewhat stressful day he'd had. Too many idiots to deal with, all these people thinking they knew more than him about engagement rings and such. He only worked in the fucking store, but what did he know?

He decided he'd make a quick stop at the mall on the way home; he'd heard many good things about the new Beck, and every week or so he got mentally fidgety without a new source of music. He scratched at the back of his neck as he drove, the stress gradually dissipating within him. "One more day until Saturday," he reminded himself. The whole week in general had been more or less unpleasant, and though he took it all in stride as he took just about everything, everybody has their breaking point.

Michael parked in front of the steakhouse entrance to the mall and slowly stepped out. He had a bit of an odd swagger to his walk, as though he'd taken a great deal of dancing lessons in his youth; a bit subtle, but present nevertheless. As though some soft yet catchy staccato bass line was always playing in his head. His head was always cocked slightly to a side, not in an arrogant fashion, just a natural inclination. Today it was the left. Michael approached the door and stepped inside the mall, feeling the air conditioning engulf him. He grinned as moved on to Virgin Records.

Tamara was overloaded. On her payday she had a habit to take a quarter of her check and splurge it the typical way one with very little will power does. She had a Barcadia and an Oliphant bag slung over her right forearm, as well as two fairly large Kint & Bickle bags in her left hand. She was headed for the exit when she heard a familiar voice from behind her.

"Hey, beautiful... want a hand?"

She turned slowly to see Michael Fenster, a former coworker from her current place of employment, as a server at the prestigious but dripping-with-drama Dorsia's. "Michael!" she smiled at him.

Michael grinned back and took two of her bags. She had always liked the sparkle his mahogany eyes gave off when he smiled in any way. She let out a laugh as she observed Michael's ensemble; The black designer suit with the bright dark red shirt and black tie. "No wonder Perry always said you were gay," she smiled with her hand over her little mouth, "you're always better dressed than the rest of us."

Michael chuckled, not really sure if that was sarcastic or not, but that was what he liked about Tamara. She was the only woman he knew that would join in with his dark sort of jokes. That was why he had quit Dorsia's; the last offensive jocose comment he had made was that "wheelchairs are for bitches" and every coworker with Tamara's exception finally tired of him.

"Well, I do try," Michael said in a mock lisp, continuing "which reminds me, I have to renew my Cosmo subscription today."

They laughed for a bit and Tamara turned her attention back to Michael's face. She'd always found him extremely attractive, with his bold brown eyes and well leveled black hair. His cheeks were seemingly sculpted to form a perfect facial shape that was neither too skinny or wide, too long or short. His eyes were always slightly squinted, and she couldn't figure out why exactly she liked that. Maybe it was just him.

"What were you up to," Michael started, "besides the obvious?"

Tamara looked off thoughtfully, her green eyes distant but still full of kaleidoscope-like color proportions. "...not a whole lot, to be honest."

"I'll buy you lunch?"

Michael always had a very cool and collective attitude; she remembered that being one of the first things that attracted her to him. She nodded, sporting a snotty and disgusted look. "I guess."

They both laughed as they walked out together. "What should I do with my bags?"

"We can stop by your car if you want."

"I guess we could."

"Could we?"

"Sure."

They walked over to the blue Honda about ten spaces away from Michael's car and Tamara opened up the trunk. Michael looked her over appreciatively; he'd always had a thing for Tamara, and running into her here and taking her out to lunch was no tragedy by any means. He watched her sway her long brown hair from her face to behind her back in an inadvertant grace as she placed the bags he handed her into the back of her trunk around her spare tire. She was wearing a fairly tight fitting dark blue blouse with a nice looking black knee length skirt. She was very slender and her body seemed to flow. Her legs were shaped almost perfectly up to her tight rear and midsection just below her medium sized chest. Michael realized that he had handed her the last bag and was still staring and she was looking back at him. He forced a little laugh and said, "so there's Harman's, and right next to it is Kardon. Do you prefer one, or..."

Tamara looked at both undecidedly. "Neither of us are very decisive, are we?"

Michael nodded. "Oh, I think I have a solution," he smiled as he reached into his pocket for a coin. He pulled it out as Tamara closed her trunk and said "Harman's can be heads."

He flipped the coin and it landed tails. "I guess it's Kardon, then, huh?"

"I guess."

They walked on to Kardon making jokes about everyone at Dorsia's until they had been seated and already had their order taken. They sat there drinking beers making fun of ex-employees, managers, customers, pretty much everything that Dorsia's had to offer in that department. Finally, that well of conversation had run dry and a moment of silence took over; one of those moments of silence that was only disturbing because it wasn't.

Tamara cleared her throat. "So what are you doing now, anyway?"

Michael bent his eyebrows and flexed his fingers. "Right now I'm working at Ozman's."

"The jeweler?"

"No, the snake charming business. But we do jewels on occasion."

"Ah,"

The server brought Michael another beer; he was on his fourth very quickly; Tamara about to finish her second. He watched her hand as it effortlessly parted fingers slightly to place the bottle back down on the table, and how they moved back into place. Her body moved so eloquently, and she seemed completely oblivious to it.

"You're really sexy, you know that?"

A bit startled, Tamara looked up at Michael. "What?"

"Oh, let's not play any games," he told her softly. "You heard me. Just making an observation."

"Oh, is that all," Tamara asked. She found herself smiling. She wanted to tell Michael what she thought of him, but she probably hadn't had enough to drink as he probably had. Finding it hard to resist, she pressed the topic of discussion. "So there's something you like about me, Michael?"

Michael nearly choked on his beer at this. "I really don't think you need to ask, he started. "I think you know fully well how good looking you are; I don't see how me telling you this one time is going to-"

She put her hand on his, a somewhat lascivious look in her eye that grew ever so slightly as lunch went on. Before Michael could reply, the server had arrived with their entrees and placed them down in front of them. They smiled pleasantly at him and when he left, the atmosphere had cooled at bit.

They began to eat, but very slowly, not entirely sure what to say to the other. They each caught each other casting stares at the other more than twice and when Tamara saw Michael looking at her again he didn't avert his gaze, as didn't she. They looked into the other's eyes for a good while until a wry grin sprawled itself over Tamara's light features. "I have to.. go to the bathroom," she said slowly. Michael grew a likewise smile as she got up, looking at him with a hard, seductive look that she'd never given him before. Giving it a minute, Michael stood up and followed to the bathroom area. Walking down the short hallway, he saw a phone on the wall in the middle, a men's room to his right, and a women's room to his left. Looking behind himself and seeing noone, he slipped into the women's room.

Closing the door behind him, Michael fumbled for some sort of lock which mercifully was present. Tamara waited in front of him, kind of letting her upper body fall back with a sly look on her face.

Michael approached her slowly, gently sliding his arm over her hip and to the small of her back, pulling her into him. Her petite figure fitted perfectly against his hard and muscular frame as they held each other for the briefest of moments before their lips met. They started to kiss, softly at first, and gradually becoming more aggressive with one another. A good year and a half of stowed away sexual frustration was finally being released, and it showed in their growing passion. Michael's hand slid up Tamara's back and his fingers moved through her soft hair, his other hand keeping her waist pressed into his. Their tongues gently grazed at each other's lips almost in shifts until they met and started almost massaging the other. Tamara's soft and velvety mouth and her slender hips were getting him hard very quickly, as his mind slowed and concentrated on her mouth. Tamara was in the same sort of reverie, lifting a bended knee to rub her inner thigh against Michael's leg.

Tamara was the one to pull away first, nearly out of breath and flushed. "I'd wanted to do that for a long time," she giggled. Michael smiled back serenely as she began to turn away, looking at herself in the mirror, straightening out her skirt and blouse. Michael grabbed her hips and pulled her ass between his legs, running one hand over her taut stomach and the other over her crotch. Tamara let out a quick moan at his quick movement and let her head fall back close to his as he lowered his lips to kiss her neck.

Michael ground his crotch against Tamara's tight rump as she gyrated back, nearly purring at the sensation of Michael's hands moving over her body. Michael had two fingers rubbing on her lower belly in little erratic circles as his other hand began softly kneading her breasts. If not for his hand on her chest, she felt she might fall forward from the powerful sensations coming from her loins. One of her hands moved up to feel the side of Michael's face, while the other reached around and felt up his side underneath his previously tucked in shirt.

"God.. I want you so bad, Tamara," Michael whispered in her ear, just before giving a little nibble on the side of her neck. Tamara let out the tiniest of squeals at this, breathing very heavily and finding it more and more difficult to stop.

Michael kissed up the elegant curve of her chin and let his lips drag up the flech between her throat and her lips, kissing her much harder than he had before, and starting to move into her a little harder and rub at her a little harder. His fingers gradually moved to the top of her skirt and one inserted them, moving three over her slightly wet panties, and then slipping them underneath the light fabric over her cunt.

Tamara gasped into his mouth as a finger slid down her clit and over the lips, and two other fingers followed. One finger gingerly ran up and down over the entrance while the other two ran up and down the flesh on either side in the opposite direction. He sped it up and intensified his hand's movement as he dry humped her harder and harder, his hands massaging her breasts, totally taking Tamara, much to her delight to say the least.

Tamara soon slowed her gyrations and started to feel slightly limp in Michael's arms. "Why are you stopping," he whispered, a little bit suprised.

"I'll cum if I don't..."

In response to this, Michael sped up his pace and stuck his fingers further inside her, letting two feel around inside while one was planted at her opening's base; his thumb rotating lazily and quickly over her clit while he humped and fingered her slower and more heavily. Tamara's hand balled into a fist in Michael's hair as she felt herself climaxing against him, biting his lip in the process. Michael felt her pussy squeezing on his fingers and he smiled, slowling his hips. He had come close himself, and was glad that he could avoid it. There was plenty of time for that later.

Tamara looked dreamily into his eyes and smiled. "That was nice..."

Michael smiled at her. "Yeah, but our food is waiting."

With that, he gently stepped away from her and walked over to the mirror, straightening his hair out, after licking and then washing his dripping fingers. Catching her breath back, Tamara splashed some water on her face and fixed her out of place hairs. They smiled and stepped out, Michael a minute or so before Tamara.

When they returned to their table, they said very little; just casting those looks at each other as they had before, eating slightly faster than they would have had that not just happened. Once they got their check Michael took it and went up front. "You know where I live, don't you?"

Michael had a Dorsia's party at his home at one time, and he was fairly certain that Tamara had been there. "Yeah, I do," she replied. "I'm pretty sure, anyway."

"Alright. Well, meet me there. I'm going to take off as soon as I take care of this."

She nodded. "Alright. Thanks for lunch. Among other things."

"Yeah. The drinks were good too."

She laughed and walked out. After Michael dealt with the somewhat snobbish host, he walked cooly out to his car. Once inside, Chris Isaak once again filled the car with smooth, relaxing sounds, compelling Michael to grin broadly as he headed home. He didn't get the new Beck. He also wasn't not having sex, either.

Michael pulled into his driveway with no sign of Tamara. He muttered softly to himself as he parked and got out, but found relief as her car pulled up and parked at the curb. He unlocked the front door and went to greet her, meeting her half way on the driveway.

"Come on in," he said in a sarcastic television show-esque tone.

"Oh Lordy Lord, I think I will," Tamara replied in a mock slave voice.

He turned and held the door open for her. "So what brings you here?"

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his torso as he closed the door.

"Eh, some faggot."

He leaned against her, slightly pressing her into the wall as they kissed, a little more softly than before. Tamara moved her hands to the front of Michael's pants, fumbling for the button and zipper while Michael took the liberty of taking care of hers. His pants dropped first, and she wrapped a hand around his stiffening member. He eased it into her hand while his hands moved around to Tamara's rear, tenderly squeezing the ample flesh and pulling her into him. She stepped out of her pants and led him by his cock down the hall. The slight pulling sensations were getting Michael even harder as Tamara walked on, in search of a room with a bed. It didn't take long; There were only three rooms in that hall, including the bathroom. She walked in and sat on the bed in front of Michael, taking him into her mouth. Michael stifled a groan at the sensation of her hot lips wrapping themselves around his dick and her tongue meeting the tip, lavishly wrapping itself around and rubbing against it seamlessly. She was very talented, he couldn't help think.

Noticing that his hands weren't doing anything, he reached down and ran his fingers through her soft hair; he'd always loved her hair. The way it smelled, the way it felt, and of course the way it looked. He sensed himself coming around the corner and pulled her face away from him.

"Hmm?"

Tamara seemed confused. Michael reassured her though, as he gently shoved her onto her back and laid over her, resting on one of his forearms. He kissed at her neck and upper chest as he ran his hand down her smooth stomach and underneath her panties, feeling her very wet netherregions. He slipped a finger inside, followed by another as he kissed up closer to her lips, and softly began to play around inside of her. No real direction or technique so to speak, just sort of feeling around in an unorganized fashion. Tamara began to grind her hips against his hand as his lips reached hers, and their tongues once again started brushing lightly against each other as they caressed the openings of the other's mouth.

Suddenly, Michael's fingers shot directly up inside Tamara, hitting directly behind her clit and rubbing furiously, gradually gaining speed. Her back arched at this, and he kept at it for a good couple of minutes, never changing any motion except for rapidly speeding up his finger's movement.

Soon, He planted his thumb over Tamara's clit and let it glide over repeatedly, right to left and up and down. Tamara had already began bucking quite harshly against him and now she felt herself contracting and flushing out a light fluid all over Michael's arm. She moaned into Michael's mouth, sounding as though she had duct tape over her lips.

Feeling her reaction, he slowed his movement and pulled his hand away, licking at his wet fingers. He grabbed his by now near throbbing member and started rubbing the tip against her lips. "Mmm god," Tamara mumbled. "Don't do this to me."

He kept sliding it about, over her clit, up the lips and down, and at a point he entered her ever so slightly and pulled out again. Then he pulled away, moving down her stomach and dropping his face between her legs. He looked at her pussy; It was gleaming, the sides of the lips looked swollen, and right in the opening looked nice and juicy. Without hesitating a further second, he gleefully ran his cheek along her inner thigh and to her sex, kissing it. She let out a sigh as he let his tongue run up and down the glistening labia, demonstrating a great deal of will power as he moved his hand around to her ass, pulling her into his face. His nose was scraping against her trimmed lower abdomen and her clit as he lapped gently, methodically, patiently. Almost as though he was waiting for her to beg.

"Fuck, Michael," Tamara let out, "stop teasing me."

Michael smiled and let his tongue plunge inside a little further, making the same motions a little more emphatic. He moved in a little more, and then a little harder. Once he felt her fingers gripping his hair he let loose, practically ravaging her with his lips and tongue. Not a sound came out of Tamara, just her fists full of Michael's hair and her pounding crotch. He didn't let up until he finally felt her dripping more and more into his mouth, to the point where she was practically pouring.

Michael licked her up all around her womanhood and moved up, delighted to see her on her back, sprawled out and covered in sweat. He dragged his teeth up over her clit and kissed up her stomach, crawling over her slowly. He met the crescendos of flesh atop her chest, and paid special attention to the nipples topping them, licking at the areola and swirling it around over the nipple before actually taking it into his mouth and frenching it, slightly sucking. He moved up and kissed her neck, feeling her writhe underneath him and smiling as he moved up once again to her lips. As they kissed, Michael positioned himself in front of her and placed it right on the entrance, not moving.

"Michael, if you do that again, I swear to God I will kill you."

They shared a light laugh as he began to enter her slowly. Tamara gasped as he spread her walls apart, stretching her out in a slow, determined movement. He pulled back out slowly and moved back in, stopping at how tight she felt. Unwilling to take any more, Tamara rolled herself onto him and sat all the way down onto his shaft. After all, she'd recieved all the foreplay she'd needed; what she really wanted now was a good fucking.