Read Again
A sequel to Read in the Face
It would be a lie to say I haven’t thought about that morning in Mark’s hotel pretty much daily since. It comes to me at the most inopportune times. I’ll be in the grocery store, opening a door in the frozen section, and bam, I imagine his tongue along my neck…
The rush of cold air from the freezer makes goosebumps along my arms. I remember how it felt to have Mark behind me, kissing my neck. The whole thing happens again in my mind, and as I remember, I add more to the story. He moves his hands down my shoulders and around to my chest. He says how much he missed this and that he’s thought about doing this every day since. He feels me through my tank top and my knees shake. He grabs the front of my top and pulls at it until it’s around my waist. I have no bra on and the chill of the freezer makes my nipples harder. He turns me around and thrusts his hands down my pants. He tells me how turned on he is as he feels my soaked underwear. I tell him —
“Uh miss? Do you need help?”
Shit. The teenage grocery guy is looking at me like maybe I have dementia and need assistance finding frozen peas. I mumble some sort of no thank you and dash to the next aisle. Like it’s not fucking normal for a girl to fantasize with the freezer door open. God.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and it’s him. Like he knew I was thinking about him. “In town for work tonight. Sorry, last minute change. Please tell me you’re free.”
I move through check out in a daze. Mark and I texted for awhile after that one night. The texts got fewer and farther between as we both sort of got back into the swing of our normal lives, living in cities that were a thousand miles apart. We had a fun fling and that was it. But he’s here tonight. Fuuuuck.
I text him back. “I may be. Who’s this??” I’m nothing if not an ass.
Almost instantly, I see him typing back. “I’m the guy who is going to make you squeal later.”
Oh god.
“Yep. Free. Free as a goddamn bird.”
We plan to meet at the restaurant in his hotel. I stop by the mall on my lunch break and go into a lingerie store. There is a large selection of full body get ups. Damn, that outfit looks downright painful to wear. I’m not into that. Something simple. Where is the simple anymore? A thong and bra Mark can take off. With his teeth. The mannequin toward the back has on a black thong and damn sexy bra. The fabric hardly covers the nipples and I imagine the hunger in Mark’s eyes were I to stand in front of him wearing this.
I try the bra and undies on in the dressing room. In my mind I hear him slip into the dressing room behind me. His dark eyes take me in through the mirror and he instantly pulls at the thin strips of elastic holding my underwear up. I grab his hand and pull it toward me, placing it on my chest, where my thinly covered breast waits for his touch. He moves to me and I feel him on my leg, growing hard through his pants. I touch him and he moans. He pulls my underwear to the side and unzips as he feels me with his fingers. The mirror shows everything. I watch his hands on me. I watch the look on his face as my hands are holding him behind me. Pants now down, he guides himself into me. My palms are on the mirror of the dressing room and I breathe heavily as he holds my hips and pushes himself in farther. I can’t hold on much longer when —
A knock at the door. Apparently I’ve been daydreaming too long. I guess I’m making a new career out of drooling in various businesses around town. I look at myself in the mirror. This’ll do. The underwear are teeny tiny. Perfect.
When I get home I hop in the shower and let the steam fill my lungs. It’s been another long week. Seeing Mark on a Friday evening is exactly what I need. I soap up and shave my legs, making sure to go all the way up. I picture the teeny undies. I get a little more brave with my razor.
I start to glide my razor above my thigh, moving it inward. I use extra shaving cream and prop my leg on the step in my shower. I get everything, moving carefully over sensitive skin. Using my fingertips, I feel my skin, soft and silky where the razor moved. I haven’t shaved bare in so long. My own skin is turning me on. I let my hand keep moving along it, and it feels so good. So soft. Each touch feels different now, with the the hot soapy water and the prospect of tonight. I move my hands more, exploring every part of me. My breath quickens. I picture Mark’s body gliding over mine, parts of him slipping over my shaved skin, parting me gently and then more roughly.
I am growing wet now and I don’t think I can stop myself. I put a finger inside myself, then two. It feels so good. I move them back and forth as the hot water cascades over my hair and chest. All of me is consumed with a heat as I go on. My breath is quick now. I let my fingers take everything from me. And then I do it again. I stand in the water until it begins to turn cold.
I look at the clock and realize I’m running low on time. I get dressed quickly, pulling on the teeny tiny undies and bra I bought earlier. I cover them with a low cut dress that leaves just enough to the imagination. I’m completely out of time and my hair is still wet.
I am still wet.
I dash out the door and head to my old friend, The Jefferson.
To be continued soon…
