Read in the Face
What if he took me right there in the bookstore?
Whether it’s coincidence that I run into him in the bookshop on 46th or some other, larger force doesn’t really matter. I don’t really believe in larger forces, anyway. But that doesn’t mean certain things don’t make me scream out God’s name.
I’m in the speculative fiction section. Yeah, I’m a bit of a book nerd. I like the smell of them, the feel of them in my fingers, the stories that take me away from the everyday. I like the idea of being surrounded by them. I like their permanence and impermanence. So finding me in a bookshop is not only likely, but it’s probably going to mean I’m in a great mood. But my mood is about to change.
My eyes are scanning the shelves for a new dystopian I have to get my hands on and that’s when he bumps into me and sends my stack of paperbacks flying. I am about to be annoyed when I turn and see it’s him. Mark.
If ever a face could disarm, it’s his. Not traditionally good looking. Not launch an absurd amount of ships beautiful, but who cares about ancient lit? His face is soft and rugged at once, with teeth that slant imperceptibly and lips that I’ve seen a thousand times in my mind. They’ve whispered to me, trailed my collarbone, greedily danced over my hips, buried themselves in my thighs. That mouth of his has done so much.
“Oh, shit I’m so sorry,” Mark says. “Wait, are you — ?”
Yes, it’s me, the girl who sat behind you in Econ 243. The girl who shyly smiled but never said hello. The girl who imagined you pinning her to the wall right in the middle of study section. The girl who tasted you a thousand times in her dreams. Who —
“Laney, right? From Econ?”
Holy shit. He remembers me. Probably I should start talking and not let this be completely one-sided but I’m paralyzed and growing wet just standing here in front of him. I begin to imagine it all over again and my face flushes.
I manage some sort of yeah, that’s me.
I go to grab my books from the floor and he bends down to help. He smells like laundry and skin and it’s been forever since I’ve seen him and I’m about to lose it here on my hands and knees in the fiction section of Daryl’s Books. I am reassembling the stack and he’s helping me. But what if he stopped? What if he moved behind me and lifted up my blue sundress in the back? What if he watched my back arch as he slid my underwear aside and brushed his fingers over me, letting them sink into all the warm wetness he can claim to have unleashed?
I am all but gasping for air imagining the scenario play out right there in the shop.
He pulls my underwear down to my knees while I’m still on all fours. His left hand holds my hip while his right hand slowly moves, fingers filling me. I moan quietly, pushing my hips back to get his fingers deeper. His left hand is up my dress now, pulling my bra down and grazing my skin with nails and soft fingers.
I beg for him. For more of him. He unzips his jeans and pushes himself against me. Not into me but against me. He grows hard along my skin while his hand continues to taunt me.
He is about to relieve me of this ache and give —
“Yo, Laney, you still here?” Mark is waving his hand in front of my eyes. “I’m sorry about the books. You ok?”
Yes, I’m totally fine, just mid-orgasm inside my head. Don’t mind me. Please.
“Yeah, uh sorry. Just tired.”
“Well then lemme buy you a coffee, we can catch up.”
We walk over to The Grind, a small shop across the street. Mark tells me he’s in town just for the night on business. On business. That sounds so hot.
“Where are you staying?” I ask.
He points down the block to the Jefferson. Damn. They put him up in style.
We sit at a small booth in the corner. My cheeks are mostly back to normal, but I’m still incredibly turned on. I am just praying he can’t see it. I want to reach across the space under the table and put my hand on his thigh. I want to slide it over his zipper and undo his pants. I want to pull them down and feel him in my hands, stroke him until he unleashes right here in the cafe.
And my mind goes again. He is so hard in my hands. He won’t let me finish. He scoots the table away so it’s just the cushioned benches by the window. He presses me against the window so I am facing the street. He pulls my dress down and the cold glass on my bare chest makes me gasp. He rips my underwear aside and pushes himself inside me, grunting. The cold window and the heat of his body clash inside me and —
“And for you?” the waiter says each word slowly. This is not the first time he as asked me what I want to drink. Shit.
“Sorry. Latte.” I say. Jesus, I need to get my act together. The waiter leaves.
“Hey, you ok?” Mark asks.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just a long week.”
He asks me what I’ve been up to in the years since school ended. I manage to fill him in on the basics of my life and he does the same. As he speaks I wonder if he knows just how wet I am on my side of the booth. He couldn’t possibly.
“Wait until I tell Jake I ran into the hot girl from Econ. He’s gonna trip.”
“The hot girl?” I ask, laughing.
“Oh, yeah. I had a huge thing for you in school but was too chicken shit to do anything about it.”
He looks down at the table and taps his fingers in a rhythm. Is he feeling awkward right now? Mark? Fucked-me-a-thousand-times-in-my-dreams Mark?
Holy fuck balls.
I think he actually wants me. Still.
“You wanna take a walk?” I ask, emboldened by his admission. “I’ve never been in the Jefferson.”
He looks up at me now and his expression is fixed. He is surveying my face, wondering what it is I’m really asking. I nod to let him know he’s not reading anything into it.
We leave before the coffee comes.
In the elevator, Mark pulls a wisp of hair out of my face and away from my head, revealing my neck. It’s a subtle, non-sexual gesture but it holds so much. It is a familiar thing to do, an act that says I am close enough to you to touch you. My shoulders drop and I let out a slow breath. I hope I don’t lose my nerve before we get to his room.
He pushes the door in and lets me walk in first. It’s a nice room. View of the city and all. He opens the curtains to let in a little more of the morning’s light.
“I’m not sure —
But I cut him off with a hand on the side of his neck and he breathes out. I can see him getting hard right through his pants. If it’s possible for me to be any more turned on than I already was, it’s happening now.
I slip off the straps of my dress and it falls to the floor. He watches me as I unhook my bra and let it fall too. I take his hand and place his fingers over my underwear so he can feel how wet I am and he lets out a breath. I move my underwear to the side and use my fingers to guide his over me. Not inside, just over so we can both revel in what he has done to me.
I bring his mouth to mine and we kiss. As hesitant as he was a moment ago, he is all fervor now, biting my lower lip, growling under his breath.
I unzip him and slip his pants off. I wind my hands in between the folds of fabric in his underwear and put my hand around him. He pulls his underwear down but leaves mine on.
I guide him to sit on the side of the bed and I lower myself in front of him. His hands flow through my hair as I bend to put my lips on him. I taste him and it is so much better than the times I imagined it. Feeling him along my tongue makes me weak and I need all of him in me. I open my mouth wide as he glides over my tongue. The warm, wet sides of my cheeks encircle him as he grows harder, pulsing in my mouth.
He instinctively pushes his hips forward and he slides down the back of my throat. I gag a little but swallow him. I am so wet right now and I don’t think I can handle much more of this before coming. He pulls me up by my shoulders and moves me so I am straddling him. I am ready to sink down on him, but he continues to move me up.
He pulls my hips with his hands so I am just inches above his mouth. He lifts his head and his tongue is on me. I sink my hips down over his face. His mouth is greedy. I tell him how good it feels. I tell him not to stop. I tell him his tongue has me on fire. And it does.
The small circles he makes, the way his mouth moves on me, it is breaking me. I shudder through a wave of heat that passes through me and I moan as his mouth makes me come.
I am panting and definitely red in the face. His hand touches my cheek and it’s sweet. But we are not there yet. We’re not in the gentle afterglow of anything. We are in the middle of this and I don’t want gentle. I tell him exactly, explicitly, in slow detail just how his tongue made me feel. I tell him what I want from him now and he smiles at my approach. I tell him what I wanted him to do at the coffee shop and and the book store.
“Fuck that’s hot, you were thinking all that?”
“You weren’t?”
“Fair point.”
I excuse myself for a second to splash water on my face. My cheeks are so hot and my skin is buzzing. But Mark is behind me and I watch in the mirror as he sweeps my hair off of my neck and runs his mouth along my neck and shoulder. I can feel myself ready for more.
And I do feel myself. My hands reach down and slide over my belly. I show him exactly what I do when I’ve thought about him before. I tell him that the only thing missing in those times is him, hard, inside me. I ask him to fill me.
I place both of my palms on the cold marble counter. Using his hands to guide himself, he slowly parts me with himself. So slow. Just millimeters inside, but moving, always moving, back and forth. So slow. He inches in and moves his hands up over my ribs to grasp at my chest.
He is so close to being completely inside me but holds back. So slow, he moves. He is driving me crazy. I am completely falling apart and his fingers make circles around my nipples. His teeth graze my earlobe and his soft whisper of “how’s this?” tickles me. I can only moan in response.
I push my hips back so that he’s completely inside me now. His hands grab my sides and pull at me for leverage. He moves faster now, pushing into me, letting himself slide out, pushing in harder, sliding back. I am so goddamn wet. He watches me as my moaning smile gets bigger and louder. He tells me he wants to watch my face as I come. I clench around him and he exhales sharply.
I tell him I am close. He says he can tell. He pulls my hair up and uses it to guide my face toward the mirror. He tells me to watch too. He reaches his hand around me and touches me just above where he is inside me. My chest bounces as he moves inside me.
I watch my face as the heat in my belly bursts in all directions. I watch my mouth fall open into a moan as his thrusts and his fingers make me fall apart in a giant crashing wave. As I come my muscles tighten around him and that is all he can take. He closes his eyes as he bites his lip and pours himself into me, hot, seeping.
We stand there for a moment, him still inside me. We are breathless, sweaty.
“Want to get that coffee now?” I suggest. “You may need the caffeine for round 2.”
