possible. The bliss of it. God. It was nearly too much,
nearly more than I knew how to deal with. Nearly.
As my orgasm died away, The Businessman removed his fingers
and cupped my pussy in his hand, holding me, most likely feeling the receding
twitches of my clit and pussy as my climax subsided. A pulse. And then another.
Then longer until the next.
When it passed at last, The Businessman let go of me, and I
slumped against the wall. I no longer gasped for air, but I still breathed hard
and my heartbeat had yet to return to normal. From time to time, bursts of
aftershocks skittered over my body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
I was only vaguely aware of The Businessman righting my
skirt. It fell against the back of my thighs. My legs felt shaky and quivery.
He reached out and grabbed the hair at the base of my head
and tilted me back enough to see him looming over me.
“Who are you?” I asked, my voice a stunted whisper.
“You know who I am, and I know you. We knew the instant our
eyes met,” he said.
I knew that he was right in one respect, that I felt
something powerful when I saw him. I didn’t know what it was, what to call it,
other than desire. Was it something else, something more? What did he mean when
he said I knew him? Desire wasn’t knowledge, was it? I gulped hard.
His eyes were intense and black and he spoke in a way that
was almost sinister. “Our kind will always find one another.”
The way he said it. The fierce look, the stern line of his
lips. The power.
I thought, now he will take me, and I will fly apart in the
dark hall of this noisy bar. He’ll throw me on the dirty floor, and I won’t
care. In fact, I’ll like that it’s filthy.
He’ll take me from behind and shove his cock into me and
fuck me until I beg for mercy. And I ... will fly ... apart.
Except none of that happened. He didn’t take me.
The intensity left his face as if it had never been there.
Had I only imagined it? No, I hadn’t imagined it, but it was gone nonetheless,
replaced by a smooth calmness. He gave me an enigmatic smile.
He untied my hands, smoothed out my clothes and pushed my
hair into half-assed order. He picked up my purse and stuck it under my arm.
Holding my hand, he led me back to the main hallway then to
the door of the ladies room. I followed along like some silly, brainless thing.
“You should clean yourself up,” he said. “Your girlfriends
will be getting worried about you.”
He leaned down and gave me an oddly chaste kiss.
“It was a pleasure,” he said, then he opened the door of the
restroom and gently nudged me inside. The door closed and he was gone.
I was alone.
I thought, “My name is Nonnie Crawford. And yours?”
Chapter 2
I sat in a stall in the restroom, trying to pull myself into
some sort of order. I wondered how long we’d been in that shadowy corridor. I couldn’t
be certain of duration, but surely it was long enough for my friends to get
worried about me.
Where were they, anyway? I could have been robbed and
stabbed, or dragged off through the back door, raped and killed in the back
lot, my body left lifeless and crumpled next to a reeking dumpster.
When I went to a bar with friends, I expected them to look
after me. They should have been tearing around the place, calling my name,
frantic and insistent that I be found. So where were they? I wanted to stalk up
to our table and chew them out for putting me in danger.
I stood up to go do just that ... but I stopped, and sat
back down. I wasn’t really angry at my friends. I was angry at myself. They
hadn’t put me in danger; I managed that all on my own. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
What was I thinking?
I hadn’t been thinking. I’d been acting on some bizarre
compulsion. It was an anomaly, an erotically-fueled error of judgment. Luckily
I survived no worse for the wear, the only repercussions being a sore bottom,
and the loss of a pair of panties.
I groaned. God, I had no panties.
nearly more than I knew how to deal with. Nearly.
As my orgasm died away, The Businessman removed his fingers
and cupped my pussy in his hand, holding me, most likely feeling the receding
twitches of my clit and pussy as my climax subsided. A pulse. And then another.
Then longer until the next.
When it passed at last, The Businessman let go of me, and I
slumped against the wall. I no longer gasped for air, but I still breathed hard
and my heartbeat had yet to return to normal. From time to time, bursts of
aftershocks skittered over my body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
I was only vaguely aware of The Businessman righting my
skirt. It fell against the back of my thighs. My legs felt shaky and quivery.
He reached out and grabbed the hair at the base of my head
and tilted me back enough to see him looming over me.
“Who are you?” I asked, my voice a stunted whisper.
“You know who I am, and I know you. We knew the instant our
eyes met,” he said.
I knew that he was right in one respect, that I felt
something powerful when I saw him. I didn’t know what it was, what to call it,
other than desire. Was it something else, something more? What did he mean when
he said I knew him? Desire wasn’t knowledge, was it? I gulped hard.
His eyes were intense and black and he spoke in a way that
was almost sinister. “Our kind will always find one another.”
The way he said it. The fierce look, the stern line of his
lips. The power.
I thought, now he will take me, and I will fly apart in the
dark hall of this noisy bar. He’ll throw me on the dirty floor, and I won’t
care. In fact, I’ll like that it’s filthy.
He’ll take me from behind and shove his cock into me and
fuck me until I beg for mercy. And I ... will fly ... apart.
Except none of that happened. He didn’t take me.
The intensity left his face as if it had never been there.
Had I only imagined it? No, I hadn’t imagined it, but it was gone nonetheless,
replaced by a smooth calmness. He gave me an enigmatic smile.
He untied my hands, smoothed out my clothes and pushed my
hair into half-assed order. He picked up my purse and stuck it under my arm.
Holding my hand, he led me back to the main hallway then to
the door of the ladies room. I followed along like some silly, brainless thing.
“You should clean yourself up,” he said. “Your girlfriends
will be getting worried about you.”
He leaned down and gave me an oddly chaste kiss.
“It was a pleasure,” he said, then he opened the door of the
restroom and gently nudged me inside. The door closed and he was gone.
I was alone.
I thought, “My name is Nonnie Crawford. And yours?”
Chapter 2
I sat in a stall in the restroom, trying to pull myself into
some sort of order. I wondered how long we’d been in that shadowy corridor. I couldn’t
be certain of duration, but surely it was long enough for my friends to get
worried about me.
Where were they, anyway? I could have been robbed and
stabbed, or dragged off through the back door, raped and killed in the back
lot, my body left lifeless and crumpled next to a reeking dumpster.
When I went to a bar with friends, I expected them to look
after me. They should have been tearing around the place, calling my name,
frantic and insistent that I be found. So where were they? I wanted to stalk up
to our table and chew them out for putting me in danger.
I stood up to go do just that ... but I stopped, and sat
back down. I wasn’t really angry at my friends. I was angry at myself. They
hadn’t put me in danger; I managed that all on my own. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
What was I thinking?
I hadn’t been thinking. I’d been acting on some bizarre
compulsion. It was an anomaly, an erotically-fueled error of judgment. Luckily
I survived no worse for the wear, the only repercussions being a sore bottom,
and the loss of a pair of panties.
I groaned. God, I had no panties.
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