Finding Ms. Write

Her eyes were slightly wild, but the little quirk had grown into a definite smile. "Oh yes," she said, and walked past him, into the darkened shop, vanishing into shadow.

He followed, stepping in and letting the door swing closed, staying beside it. "Should I lock the door?"

She was standing against the counter, leaning back against it, facing him, but she was just a shape--the light behind her silhouetted her but left her face in darkness. She had laid the letter on the counter. "It's fine with me if you do," she said. Her voice was low and perhaps a little nervous. Was she still smiling?

He reached behind himself and locked the door. Then he stood there. After a long beat, he said, "Well. What now?" And he laughed, a giggle, really, made of nerves and tension and oh Jesus, testosterone.

"What now?" she asked. She began pacing toward him. Her heels clicked softly on the floor. "Well. Do you want... do you want to do all those things I said you would... did... do?"

"Uh-huh," he said, unable to move. She was very close now. It was a small front room, really. "But..."

"But what?" She stopped, about four inches from him. She was so small; even with the heels her head was tilted up to look at his face. Her glasses glinted a little and he could see her eyes behind them, wide open and dark.

"But... can I?"

"Yes, you can," she said. And she didn't move. And for a long moment he didn't move.

And then he grabbed her arms--god, they were round and small in his hands, he felt huge suddenly, ape-like and gangling and clumsy--and he pushed her back against the wall of mailboxes and he kissed her. Kissed her roughly, urgently, his mouth pressed over hers, lips and teeth and tongue and hot wet breath. And then he was kissing her neck, tasting her skin, his hands still gripping her upper arms cruelly tight. And then it was her shoulders, round and hard, and he could hear her breathing hard, but she was quiescent in his arms, pliant, and he went to his knees, sliding his hands down to her waist, and pulled her down a little, just a little sag against the wall so his mouth was over her breasts, over the satiny material of her dress and--he could feel it against his cheek and nose--the lace of her bra. Her nipples were hard and erect, and he bit them oh-so-gently through her dress. His hands moved down to her ass, round and tight beneath the material, and then lower, down the backs of her thighs and up again, under dress.

He was shocked then to feel the smooth material of her pantyhose end at the tops of her thighs, and feel flesh--warm sweaty skin--under his palms. He leaned back for a moment and wildly pushed her skirt up around her waist. She was wearing thigh-high pantyhose and nothing else. Her pussy was red and swollen, mostly shaved and trimmed close, the lips engorged so that they flaunted themselves, damp and inviting. He moaned, and then she moaned and gasped as he leaned forward and began to taste her, slowly licking at first, then he was in a frenzy, flicking her clit with his tongue and suddenly plunging two fingers deep inside. She shuddered and grabbed his hair, twining it into her fingers and making small noises, faster and faster, as he finger fucked her, slamming his fingers inside her pussy while he slapped her clit with his tongue. She bucked against the wall of mailboxes and came, unmistakably, a little gush of sweet liquid over his fingers, down his palm and wrist. She was noisy, her voice high and breathless, "Yes oh yes, yes, ohhhh, yes, don't stop don't stop don't stop" and so he keep going, his fingers aching with the strain of staying rigid as he kept on. He could feel the muscles inside her cunt clench again and again, and every time they did it she gasped and came more, until his hand and wrist and arm, clad in blue denim, were soaked, and he could lick it off his fingers, which he did, finally, releasing her.

She slid down the wall and collapsed against him, her breath sobbing in and out, very gradually slowing. He held her in his lap through it, nuzzling her hair, running his lips over her ears and the back of her neck. After a while she was quiet in his arms, her head bowed against his chest. She reached up into the little cave she had created against him and took off her glasses. When she looked up at him this time he could see her eyes clearly. She tossed the glasses away and he heard them skittering across the hard floor. Her hair was messy, tumbled around her face, and her eyes were wild, the same wildness he had seen when she first came in.

"Your turn," she said.

She pushed him back, back, until he was prone on the hard, chilly floor, and she sat astride him. She watched him watching her as she lifted her arms and pulled the dress up over her head. She flung it away and then followed it with her lacy black bra. Now she wore only the thigh-highs and her black high heels, which she partially squatted on as she straddled him, to take some of the weight off his hips. Her breasts were beautiful, not large but soft and heavy, and her belly was round and soft below them. His hands came up to touch her breasts and she leaned over him, down, down, until he had one breast in his mouth, and he was circling the long, thick nipple with his tongue, licking it, sucking hard until she gasped and laughed, then broke his hold, sitting up and back. She slid her body back and reached for the fly of his pants.

He suddenly remembered something and squirmed a little, reaching underneath himself until he could produce the little package from his pocket, the condom he had almost given up hope for. She took it with a smile and a cocked eyebrow. "Mine are in that letter over there," she said. "I like a man who... comes... prepared."

She leaned over and unbuttoned him, then unzipped his fly in one long, quick motion. "Mmm, mm, mm," she said when she saw he had no underwear on. "First the condom, now this... I guess I was too predictable."

"Not at all," he said. "I was just feeling... optimistic."

"Good," she said. "Now no more talking." She shifted and wiggled and tugged until his pants were around his knees. His erection stood up like a divining rod, stiff and aching and hard, the skin across his head tight as a drum. She leaned over and licked him slowly from root to head. Then she ripped open the condom and began unrolling it down the length of his shaft. He didn't know whether to be disappointed or elated--he wanted her mouth on his cock, god did he ever, but he was already so close to cumming, and even more than her mouth he wanted her pussy, he wanted to be buried deep inside her.

And now that want was going to be fulfilled, because she was poised over him, and then she just sank down onto him, so fast and so hard she impaled herself, and she was on fire, she was moving over him, rocking up and grinding herself down so deep... He closed his eyes and gave himself over to it, to the rhythm she set, sliding up and down his pole, her pussy as hot, as tight, as wet as he had ever imagined it at his best. He opened his eyes and watched her face, too, and oh god that almost made him cum, but he wanted her to cum while he was in her, he wanted his cock to feel her pussy muscles contract the way they had on his fingers... He reached down and ran his fingers gently across the top of her pussy, right above where he entered her. She gasped and blindly groped for his hand, moving his fingers to the right place. He began rubbing her there, slowly and then faster and faster, until he felt and heard her cum, felt her muscles tighten and clench on his cock. She began to lose her rhythm and so he fucked her, arching his hips up into her as hard and fast as he could, all the while rubbing his fingers across her clit. He felt her pussy tighten over and over, felt her cum spill down his balls, and then he was cumming; with a helpless groan he thrust up again and again into her wet, tight pussy until the explosive waves of orgasm receded. Her eyes were closed, her head bent forward as she came one more time, a long, soft howl of pleasure escaping her lips. She slowly leaned forward until she came to rest on his chest.

They lay there for a few minutes, but the floor was cold and hard, and she knew he had to move. So she moved first, lifting her leg and dismounting him neatly, settling with a graceful thump onto the cement beside him.

"Wow," he said, lying still and looking up at her.

"Mmm," she said in agreement, and she ran her hands through her hair, pushing it back and away from her damp face. "Thank you."

He sat up. "Oh my god. Are you kidding? ThankThose letters... Well, wow. Whatever your day job is, you should quit it and become a porn writer. Seriously. I mean, Jesus Christ."

She smiled, sitting there beside him, comfortable in her skin. "Have you never noticed that most of my mail comes in plain brown wrappers?"

"What? Most people's packages and large mail come in big brown envelopes."

"Ia porn writer. Nothing too hard-core, nothing too out there, although I have tried my hand at just about every style."

"Wow." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Wow." He thought for a moment. "So what was this... market research?"

She laughed. "No. Well, maybe. I mean, I am positive that it will find itself into a story... soon. But no, this was just me, seeing a man I thought was incredibly sexy and wondering if the written word had any power left."

He carefully began peeling the condom off, wondering how he should feel. "It does," he assured her, not looking up.

"Hey." She put her hand on his arm and he finished the job, looked with a wrinkled nose at the condom and then tossed it into the darkness under a table. Later. He looked at her. "Are you okay with this? I don't want you to feel bad or anything."

He smiled. "Bad is not how I feel right now. Relieved. Very relieved." He rolled his eyes and they both laughed a little. "And a little confused. But it'll pass."

"So the writing worked okay, huh?" she asked.

"It was... it was incredible." He stood and offered her a hand, and she stood, too. He zipped up and she peered around for her clothes and glasses. He handed them to her, and then helped her reassemble herself. When she was finished he had more to say.

They sat side by side on one of the packing tables. "The letters... they made me look at everyone differently. They made me really see how beautiful all the women who come in here are. I wanted to seduce all of them--every single one. That was--is--kind of a nice thing. I mean, to be able to see that even the chubby ones, or the ones with buck teeth, can be sexy.sexy. I know it is stupid, I'm stupid for not seeing it so well before, but it's true." He shrugged a little.

She was smiling at him, genuinely. "Wow, that is the nicest thing I have ever heard anyone say about my writing," she said. She laughed. "Nicer than what most people say about porn."

He grinned. "So. Would you like to... get a drink? Have dinner?" he asked. But he knew already what the answer would be.

"I'm sorry, Jeff," she said. She put her hand on his arm. "I can't. I don't think my husband would understand." She laughed aloud at his face. "Don't worry, this is all okay with him. Her expression softened. "But I don't want to lead you on into thinking I am available for a... dating relationship."

"That's okay," he admitted. "I didn't really think so."

"Well," she said, and she hopped down from the table. He did, too, and he walked her to the door. "I'll see you around." There was just a hint of play in her voice, and he couldn't help but grin.

"Okay," he replied. "That'll be fine. Valentine." She smiled, not looking at him. He opened the door for her and she stepped out.

"So Jeff," she said, stopping just outside the door and looking back in at him. "Which of the other women did you find sexiest, when you didn't know who was writing the letters?"

He thought about it for a minute. "I don't know. There is this one girl, with the reddest lips and the best smile..." He was smiling thinking about her. Delicious body, long legs, buck teeth... No wedding ring.

"I have some professional advice for you," said his author.

"Yes?"

"Write her a letter." She smiled wickedly and clicked away into the dark, tossing her long, dark hair over her shoulder.