Be Careful What You Wish For

Her photo is alluring. Her deep raven colored hair is long and lush, shining here and there with dark auburn highlights. Her bangs hang low, making her eyes more mysterious; framing and accentuating her sensuous yet innocent girl next door face.

And those eyes – oh, those eyes are so round and soft, bottomless with a glint of blue that is absolutely magnetic.

Then there is her mouth. A mouth so inviting , with luscious red lips pursed just enough for those perfectly straight, pearly teeth to peek through. I can’t stop: all I want to do is plunge something in that mouth.

Her body is sleek, with all the subtle and hard curves of an amusement park ride. She’s a cross between a healthy coed on spring break wrapped around a pole and the baby sitter you always craved.

Her legs are long and toned, with thighs so smooth they demand the attention of my tongue.

I am wet from sweat. I am wet from saliva. I am wet from, well, you know.

Her ad calls for only basic screening, and hell, I’m single and unattached, what do I care. I can afford her rate. I have always had the fantasy and tonight I am finally going to get it fulfilled.

My wish is on a hot streak. It is fate itself. She answers on the second ring and to my surprise isn’t booked for this evening. The lilts and giggles in the purr of her voice reflect the anxiousness in my own voice. I happily give her my information: name, address, phone number, employer and the like.

Already, she is more than I could have expected.  Now, I just have to hold myself for her call back.

At 8 pm I am to meet her outside, in front of a small, uptown café. In this city, any eatery, no matter the size or menu that can place a couple of tables and chairs on the sidewalk, can bill itself as a café.

Fifteen minutes early and I feel late. I decide to hang by a mailbox on the corner that will allow me views east to west, north to south, and up and down a couple of alleys in between. While the walking trade is certainly thinner than during the day, nightlife is still what this city is all about.

I’m surprised no one has paid her any mind. From blocks away she certainly stands out. Amongst all the dolled up secretaries and ‘tappable’ coeds – girls I would normally be chasing-she is a goddess.

She’s tall, at least five foot ten, with the tightest and shortest of little black dresses. Her walk in those stilettos is one of ease as she appears to float above and past the rest. Yet she doesn’t merit a glance from anyone.

Still a block away, her eyes find mine and lock. I am frozen in place, eyes to soles as she smiles, mouthing ‘Hey lover’.

Without hesitation she pecks me on the lips, barely slipping the tip of her tongue into my mouth.  Just for a brief second, sliding it in and out, wet and quickly. My muscles, already locked, tighten more. I am as stiff as a board. She smiles again, knowing I am hooked.

Over a cocktail that she never drinks, we briefly get acquainted. Small talk has never been my thing, but tonight I just open up about my life and desires. She takes it all in, speaking only with a glance, a stare and those gesturing lips.

It isn’t long before she whisks me away, four full blocks north to a three story walk up built sometime in the 1870s, nestled between two enormous, new co-ops. I have lived here all of my  life. I have been up and down this street countless times, but I simply don’t recall ever seeing this building before.

As we make the climb, she is ahead of me, spanning two steps at a time, furtively looking back with a naughty, taunting grin, to be sure that my sight is squarely fixed on what she is not wearing under that dress.

By the time we reach her apartment I am spent from the walk and the view, but when she whirls around and gives me a longer kiss with even more tongue, and a little knee rub to my lap,she re-energizes me as we burst, clenched together, through the door.

I don’t remember the first ten minutes all too well or where our clothes landed, but I have never been in touch with a woman as I am now. I’m naked on her plush white flokati hoping to slow my heartbeat to normal and hoping to find my strength for a second round. I can see the apartment looks much larger on the inside and is impeccably appointed in high end modern decor.

As my vision, mind and consciousness finally re-connect, she is standing over me in a red silk robe. Her voice is soft, yet edged with a growl, “So, how do you feel?”

Choking the words out, “Utterly fantastic. I cannot describe … but you must get that…”

She puts her index finger to my lips to quiet me, “No, I only save my very best for those who are ready, and you said you are ready, right?”

Blushing and gushing like this is my first crush, “I have never been more ready. I have dreamt of this for a long time. Please do it to me. Please.”

“Get ready then. Where do you want it?”

“Anywhere. My body is still tingling. So anywhere, please.”

With that, for the first time she brandishes those canines, swooping down between my legs. Before she takes that bite – the kiss I have craved for all of my life – the last thing I hear is her saying, “You are not going to need this where I’m taking you.”

By Joseph J. Patchen

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