A Story of Connection

We sat against the window of the hardware store, her curled up under my arm, sobbing into my side. The night's breeze, cold against our thinly protected skin, only forced us to squeeze closer together to remain warm. She had just finished laying out the grisly, uncomfortable details of her now entirely extinguished relationship. He'd been an awful partner, a selfish lover and extremely demeaning to her in private, and my offering her a warm, comforting arm caused her to burst into tears.

I took a long draw from my cigarette, buying myself a moment to think about what I'd just learned, when she took a ragged breath and spoke for the first time in long, tense minutes.

"Am I worthless, Roger?" A sob marked the sad dot to the self-loathing question mark appended to that inquiry. I froze, considering what I'd say next, and she sensed my hesitation and took it to be the unspoken answer to her all-too-spoken question. The sobbing began, renewed.

"You are NOT WORTHLESS!" I roared, a little too aggressively. "How dare you believe what that asshole said to you!" A sharp, smoky inhale hinted at the rage underneath my concern. Her sobbing stopped with a startled squeal. I moved quickly, catching her delicate chin with my rough, dirty fingers. I gently turned her face up to mine, meeting her gaze.

She was always very pretty. Her medium length hair always framed her round-ish face, usually decorated with sparkling green eyes and a dopey but cute smile. Her figure is what I'd describe as curvy petite. Her medium size breasts, currently concealed only by a thin, silky top, always hung heavy and matched her shapely-but-somehow-still-small rear atop her thick, strong legs, wrapped up in a thick but light skirt. Now, the tears danced in the corner of her eyes. She bit her lip, holding back a sob.

"You aren't worthless, Margaret. You never were. You're a smart, bright and caring woman, and you deserve way more than he gave you." I leaned forward, resting my forehead against hers. It was something I'd learned she enjoyed, and I thought she needed something comforting... I was wrong. She started sobbing again.

"Nobody ever sticks around! Nobody loves me, Roger!" She clung closer, arms squeezing me very tightly around my chest. I extinguished my cigarette, inhaled the cold night air, and started to speak.

"Damn it, Margaret, I lov-" I don't know which of us started the kiss, but I know neither of us broke it. Our lips sought each other, reveling in the pressure even as they parted, permitting our tongues to heed the cues neither of us quite knew were there. She almost pounced, straddling my lap, her hands catching my head as I grabbed her hips. Our bodies pressed together against the cold window, the cold of the concrete underneath us highlighting the warmth between us.

Long, joyful minutes were spent there, finally expressing the long-felt emotional call I'd never known I'd had for her. Our tongues danced together, bound by music unheard by any but us and us alone; a sweet, rising tune with undercurrents of intensity quickly building to overtake the piece. Our hands were reckless, unguided explorers, rushing for any new spot to be explored, diving under clothes one moment only to squeeze and fondle supple flesh through clothes the next.

Almost as quickly as it had begun, it was over. She rose to her feet silently, and I waited, expecting anger, distrust or the crushing defeat of a silent walk away. Instead, she took me by the hand, guiding me to my feet and led me around the store, almost without waiting. In silence, we moved through darker ground. I considered her deliberate yet anxious pace, uncertain of what was next.

Around the next corner, a small alcove cropped out from the rear of the hardware store. It was not warmer, but it was at once both private and exposed, and the dim sodium light lent a warm sepia tone to the area. It was there that she stopped me, turning to face me under the light.

I remained in the shadows as she stood, staring me down, her expression masked by the halo of light around her, rendering her naught but a silhouette. This was the longest silence I had ever experienced, my heart racing and hands trembling, yearning to follow her or flee in fear.. A long, deliberate inhale broke the silence.

"Finish it, Roger. Finish what you were going to say!" Her tone was flat, but not hostile, as if describing the artistic value of a brick wall. I knew that I had changed things, and I wasn't sure I could handle it. I gulped, thankful for the darkness in that moment. I struggled to conjure the words, knowing that a new and dangerous world lay on the other side of that onerous phrase. Before I could screw up my courage to force the sentence into the world, her voice broke my concentration, nearly dripping with tears as she spoke. "Right... of course you can't say it. You didn't mean it di-"

"OF COURSE I MEANT IT! I love you, Margaret. I didn't know I loved you, but I do. I love you, I love you, I love you goddamn it!" My voice bellowed through the alcove, tore around the hardware store and spilled into the street. A distant shriek of surprise, streets over, was the only response to my outburst, more war cry than declaration. Nervously, we stood, separated by a thin circle of light, considering each other in the dark. My hands shook, my heart threatened to tear free of my chest, and then she moved.

She reached out, taking a step to pull me into the light with her, and slipped into my arms. Our lips met, calmly resuming their connection. A slow and steady hand caressed her back as the other found purchase on her hip, refusing to release her again. There was no need; Her arms curled around my neck, pulling herself up to meet me. Her warmth met mine, mingling once more as we engaged each other again. Her legs wrapped around my waist, and I curled mine around her.

We sunk to the cold concrete, wrapped up in each other even as she pulled me down on top of her. There was no more waiting, and no more hesitation. We had, at last, found each other amidst the fogs of sadness and despair. My hands, laden with trepidation, snuck under her skirt and pulled her underwear free, dropping them next to us. Her hands had found my belt, unbuckling it and deftly opening my jeans, urgently pulling my member free. I looked at her, locking eyes. Before the question even formed in my head, she nodded and guided me into her. It was hellish, taking it slowly with her, and each grunt and roll of my hips brought us closer together. Soon, we were enjoined, my length fully inside of her. Our eyes met, expressionless save for the shallow breath of pleasure.

I started to move, sawing back and forth, slowly at first but picking up speed. Our gazes locked as we consummated our newly found bond. Her heels found a spot on my hips to urge me on, and I took the guidance, moving faster and faster. She responded, her eyes fluttering as she whispered formless noises of pleasure into my ear. My own grunts and moans joined her passionate chorus, a gentle echo through the alcove. The smell of her sweat and her musk flooded my senses as my cock, throbbing in time with her pulse, pounded into her warm, wet sex. Love, feeling and affection gave way to raw lust as her fingers dug into my back, drawing long scratches through my shirt and into my skin.

Too soon, I felt the familiar surge in my body, knowing my climax was coming. I bit my tongue, eager to put it off, wanting never to leave the moment. I sought her gaze in the moment, locking eyes. She knew what I meant, and nodded, moaning a soft "Uh-huh" as her legs gripped me tighter.

With a loud growl, and an even louder groan from her, we came as one, our climax striking quickly and strongly as my seed flowed into her, her sex squeezing and flexing around me. It ended as quickly as it arrived, leaving us trembling and cold. Our rough and shallow breathing slowly came to a rest. She met my gaze, a sparkle in her eyes and a smile on her lips, a smile I quickly matched.

"Let's go home." I spoke softly, my voice slightly hoarse with our exertions in the dark. Reluctantly, I rose and offered her my hand, lifting her to her feet.

--

I awoke gently and naturally at home, every blanket I owned atop my slumbering form. I was quick to recall the events of the night prior, and almost assumed them a dream until I became aware of the delicate weight on my arm. Lifting the blanket, I found her, also rousing from a deep sleep. Our eyes met and she smiled brilliantly, curling an arm around my neck and kissing me tenderly. I sunk into the kiss, as brief as it was. She pulled away and looked at me, biting her lip nervously. And then, she spoke.

"I love you too, Roger."