From the moment I saw her hunched over the register, I knew I needed her. Her soft doe eyes awkwardly begged my forgiveness as she pulled the damp fingernail from her pink lips and ran her hand down the side of her worn jeans. A slight smell of menthol cigarettes wafted from her sandy brown hair as she reached for one of the items on the conveyor belt.
“You find everythin’ you was lookin’ for ma’am?”
“Yes, thank you,” I replied while a slow smile spreading across my face. “Have you?”
“Huh?” Her forehead wrinkled into confused lines.
“You were chewing your nails. Everything okay?”
“Oh, yea” she hesitantly replied sliding a bottle of red wine over the scanner. “Uh, nothin’ really.”
Feeling my eyes still on her profile, she glanced down at my wedding ring.
“Got man problems,” she mumbled.
“Are there another kind?”
She bubbled out a sweet laugh before covering her mouth. Her eyes danced in appreciation of my comment.
“So, tell me,” I prodded. “What has Prince Charming done now?”
She looked over my expensive attire and neatly pinned back French twist trying to figure out if I really cared about her situation. Obviously, she decided I was okay despite our differences as she started to prattle on about the asshole she was dating.
“…he just left a message on my phone. He’s wantin’ me to getta ride home wit’ Sherrie, but I done told him this mornin’ Sherrie ain’t workin’ today. So, I gotta take the bus,” she exhaled loudly to punctuate her frustration. Her sweet southern accent accentuated by her anger.
“When do you get off?”
“Well, you seem like a nice girl. Why don’t I just go down the street to that bar on the corner and wait. Then, when you get off, just walk down there. I’ll give you a ride if you buy me a drink?”
She looked a bit surprised at the offer, but genuinely pleased at the prospect of not riding the bus.
“Sure, you’d do that?” she questioned at the same time sticking out her hand in an introduction. “I’m Andrea, by the way.”
“Well, Andrea, girls need to stick together,” I said with a wink. “My name is Aria and I’ll be waiting for you.”
The bar was a dive consisting of a jukebox, afternoon drunks on bar stools and a crowd of empty tables. Taking a seat on the far end of the bar, I knew I stood out in my tailored navy jacket and skirt. However, the clientele seemed politely indifferent to my presence. Calling down an order for a draft deer, the bartender shuffled down to my end of the scarred counter. The wide gold necklace clasped around my neck reflected the neon sign sending blue and red strips over the Bartender’s short-sleeved shirt. His fuzzy white hair looked oddly like the head on the draft bear he drew from the tap and sat down before me. Without making eye contact, he placed a bowl of stale pretzels on the counter. Then, he returned back to a sink full of sudsy dishes. The half hour passed quickly between three beers and seven sad country songs. About the time Johnny Cash began to crow “Folsom Prison Blues”, a blinding light spilled through the open door as Andrea stepped over the threshold. The swirling dust disappeared into the shadows as my eyes readjusted to the dark. Without her red Piggly Wiggly smock, she looked smaller, younger and quite a bit happier. She slid a cigarette in her mouth and lit the end before she spoke to me.
“Shit, I’m so glad you’re still here. I started thinkin’ ’bout it and I was for sure you’d bailed. Ya know, I’d totally understand if you woulda… being in all as I am a stranger. But, your still here, Ariel…”
“My name is Aria,” I interjected into her hurried speech. “I am happy to have the pleasant company. I was just going to go home and have some wine alone anyways.”
“Yea, didn’t strike me as the beer type,” she commented. “But here ya are suckin’ back a few frosties.”
“Yes, here I am.”
“Yea, so ya wantin’ to split or ya mind if I got one?”
“No hurry,” I answered as she dropped her belongs on the bar.
“Pops, canna get a bud draft?” she called out as she flopped onto the red vinyl stool.
“On my tab, sir” I instructed the bartender as he poured the beer.
“What? I’m buyin'”
“Next round,” I replied patting her leg. “You get the next round.”
A few hours later, we were still at the bar drinking as more people trickled in to populate the place. Andrea, buzzed from countless beers, was enjoying flirting with a variety of unsavory characters. She had even slipped off her white short sleeve blouse. Dancing with no one in particular, her white tank top clung to her sweaty chest revealing she wasn’t wearing a bra. The perky tips of her small breast shaded the shirt with two dark rose circles. Her nipples protruded a full half inch about half the height of her breast. Climbing up with her taunting motion, the damp worn cotton top revealed a tan stomach and tiny naval. The jean dipped seductive low as her underwear flirted with exposure. Her hips swayed in a slow rhythm as she reached out her hands for me to join her on the floor. The smile on her face did not reach her eyes. The blue iris stormed with a desire. I could feel her need to be wanted, to be desired, and not to be forgotten.
One particular brawny country boy could sense it too. Oblivious to my approach, he grabbed her around the waist with a hoot. He squealed with delight as he tossed her about like a child. His sloppy wet lips attempted to cover hers when I intervened. Tapping him on the shoulder as she cursed, I spoke to him with pure ice in my voice.
“You need to release my friend immediately and return to your party.”
“Wha…why lookie here,” he snickered loudly. “Ms. fucking fancy pants thinks she’s goin’ tell me what the fuck to do.”
“You only get one warning,” I replied strangling him with my eyes. “Do as I say.”
“I’m not listenin’ to some fucking cunt,” he hissed, ironically dropping Andrea, to intimidate me.
In response to the c-word, I used my self defense class training for aggressive means. A blow to crotch brought his head forward to meet my raised knee. With a loud pop, his nose exploded into a fountain of blood staining my stockings. His shock morphed quickly into threatening curse words as I back away from the hulking man. The red stain dripping down his beard onto his blue t-shirt made him look like a monsters. He narrowed his eyes reaching out to snatch the life out of me. When, to my relief, the fuzzy headed bartender and two bouncers ushered us out of the place, but not before asking us to kindly settle our tab.
Outside, Andrea twirled over the gravel parking lot laughing at us being thrown out for brawling. Clutching her shirt, smock and purse in her outstretched arms, she scanned each vehicles looking for my car as if she knew what I would drive. Finally, I pointed to the black BMW sedan. She rolled against the passenger side window waiting for me to unlock it. Once she heard the keyless entry pop, she flung open the door, tossed her items in the back and then, collapsed in the seat beside me. Rolling her head to the left, she grinned lazily rubbing her hand on her thigh. The leather scent gave way to the smell of cheap beer.
“Y’ur a regula’ Rocky,” she giggled. “Wish ya knock out Chuck.”
“That was pretty stupid of me,” I replied as I shakily inserted the key into the ignition.
“I don’t wanna go home to that asshole,” she said leaning forward.
“You don’t have …”
The air conditioning in the car gushed out as the engine started. Momentarily distracted, I watched the rosy nipples hardened into full erections. She exaggerated the effect by leaning into the vents raising her arms to cool off. The thin shirts rippled in the blasting air spreading out flat against her breast. The sweat evaporated from the dip below her throat. On her exposed skins, the hairs stood on end as goose bumps rose. Eyes closed, she moved her head slowly with a relaxed droop to her heart shaped mouth. Her wavy hair blew back about dancing wildly. Shifting uncomfortably in my seat, I felt my pussy flex. I look forward forcing myself to concentrate on getting the car in motion.
“Ya wanna go to another bar? Come on. Let’s do something. I can’t go home to him tonight. I really don’t have any other place to go. It’ll be fun.”
“You could stay with me?” I replied as I pulled out in the direction of my house. I itched with the idea of getting her in my mouth. I bit down hard on my bottom lip thinking of her musky scent. Her thighs pressed against my cheeks while she moaned my name.
“Really?” she answered looking out at the headlights streaming by the car. “Ya let me stay? Damn, I’m lucky meetin’ ya. Make that asshole worry about me…”
“Yes, I am quite lucky too,” I murmured turning onto the highway. Lost in her own thoughts of revenge, she didn’t hear my comment. It was okay though. The silence comforted my nerves as I planned out things I wanted to say to her.
An hour and a half later, we were walking into my house far from the Piggly Wiggly and the dank little bar. The natural beiges and pale white décor seemed to contract with Andrea. She was life and color. It was the first time I really realized how sterile my life had become.
“Where’s ya ole man?” she asked looking around the arched foyer.
“That big ass rock on ya hand?” she rolled her eyes walking toward the great room.
“Wait your shoes,” I sighed pointing to her feet. “No shoes on the carpet.”
“Oh,” she squeaked dropping to the floor to pop off the tennis shoes. Her legs wrapped around her half Indian style as she sat on the pale earth tile. Leaning against the wall, she eyed me suspiciously.
“What?” I asked as I placed my things in their appropriate places. The shoes went on the mat, the navy jacket in the closet and my keys on the hook.
“Where’s ya man? He payin’ for all this?”
“Not here and no.”
“Where then? How ya affordin’ this?”
“Your not going to drop this, are you?” I replied walking over to her. “If you must know, I’m going through a divorce. The man and new girlfriend live across town. I do well enough without him.”
“Oh,” she blushed shaking her head in agreement. “I think Chuck is cheatin’ on me too.”
“Common,” I exhaled puffing out my cheeks in exaggeration.
“Yea,” she smiled. “Common.”
“Let’s not talk about them. Let’s talk about us. You want some wine?”
“Wait, why ya still wearin’ the ring?”
“I like diamonds?” I replied. “You want wine or not?”
“Yea, guess so,” she shrugged. “I don’t think I like wine.”
“You tried Merlot?”
“Well, you won’t know if you don’t try it,” I stated in my most motherly voice.
Reaching out my hand to grasp hers, I tugged her up from the floor. Her soft body brushed against me as she stepped forward. Her lips pinked with a natural flush. She radiated heat and innocence. Her other hand slid on my forearm as she gazed into my hazel eyes.
“Why ya lookin’ at me like that?” she asked glancing to my mouth.
“I…uh,” I stuttered.
“Ya want me to leave?” she looked nervous.
“No,” I choked out. “Sorry, I just… I’m just… in awe of you?”
“Me?” she coughed and then exploded into a fit of giggles. “Y’ur in awe of me. I’m awful alrigh’.”
With her laughter filling the space between us, she released me and floated down the hall ahead of me. Her bare feet stepped carefully once on the carpet. She looked around with her arms grasped behind her back. Watching her survey the room, I wondered what she was thinking. Her silhouette reminded of a classical painting of a virgin in a meadow of flowers. Full hips sloped into a tiny waist and back out slightly less broad shoulders. Her caramel colored tendrils hair moved as she turned her head. Her visage threatened to seize my mind. Not wanting to linger anymore, I went into the kitchen to catch my breath. My hands shook as I mindless groped for stemmed glasses, the corkscrew and just the right bottle of Merlot. For the first time in years, fear and excitement swirled in my stomach. I arranged all the items on a tray before I glanced up to catch my reflection in the kitchen window. I smoothed my hair back rearranging the pins. Then, I picked up the tray and headed back into the great room.
Two bottles later, I sat in front of the fireplace with her head in my lap. She talked as I stroked her hair. Apparently, it had been a while since anyone had really listened to her. A smart girl trapped in a small life. She was a fairy princess stuck in a world of evil stepmothers.
“Am I talkin’ too much?”
“No, I like hearing your thoughts.”
“Why?” she asked sitting up from my lap. “Why ya bein’ so nice to me?”
“What?” My eyes pulled wide at the word.
“I see ya lookin’ at me,” she challenged me to deny it.
“You look at me too,” I replied as evenly as possible.
“I’m not like that,” she spoke with uncertainty as covered her chest with her arms.
“How do you know? Have you ever been with another woman?”
“No,” she replied slowly staring at the floor. “I just don’t think I’d like it…”
“Really?” I replied. “Why?”
“Don’t know. How’d ya know I would?” She glanced back up at me with that light in her eyes. She needed me to help her find to the answer.
“How do you describe the flavor of chocolate?”
“What?” her eyebrow arched.
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Because, it is indescribable. Nothing tastes like chocolate. It is the sweetest thing and no other candy can ever compare after that first taste.”
Shaking her head with understanding, she reached out to pull me close. She reflected a lonely curiosity as she tilted up her chin.
“Ya wanna to give me my first taste?” she whispered in a husky voice.
In response, I brushed my lips over her closed eyelids, her cheeks, her nose and then, her mouth. The soft skin met mine with a gentle passion. Each touch of our tongue sent mutual electricity through our veins that set fire to our whole being. Within minutes, the blaze overcame us. Breaking the kiss, I clutch her into my arms and breathed heavily against her shoulder. She could not stop so easily. As if she feared a moment’s pause, her hands moved over my back eagerly. With a certain expertise, she unhooked my bra snap releasing my breast from captivity. Pushing me back, I was surprised as she worked the buttons loose from my shirt. I let the navy silk fall from my shoulder and the bra to slide from my arms. Then, she reached up to the pins holding my hair in its place. Knowing how many clasped held my French twist in place, I tried to help. Our fingers struggled to loosen my hair as we kissed in a clumsy frenzy. Feeling a leather ottoman press into my calves, I failed to react in time sending us both backwards. The landing stacked us halfway over a chair and the ottoman. She giggled as she bounced on top of me. Her body was solid as it was soft pressing into me.
“Your so beautiful,” I whispered.
“Shut up,” she whispered against my ear. “Don’t lie to me.”
“Never,” I replied flipping her off unto the floor.
“Oh shit!” she laughed at she struck the ground.
“Now, say you are beautiful,” I instructed mounting her half nude form.
“Not me,” I said kissing her nose. “You”
“Stop,” she choked up looking away from me.
“I’m beautiful?” her voice cracked as she looked back.
“Again,” I insisted as I began kissing her neck.
“I’m …” she moaned.
“Again,” I spoke between kissing and stroking her shoulder.
“I’m beautiful,” she answered as her hands reached between us to grasp my breasts.
She moved over me like a summer breeze. Her fingers fluttered like butterflies grazing my skin. Her pinch was like a naughty bee stinging my dark pink nipples as I tasted the dry sweat on her skin. I wanted her small ripe breast in my mouth, but she refuses me access. Instead, I embraced her as her wet mouth inhaled my large areola. With gentle pressure, she sucked and bit my right nipple making chills spill over my flesh. Her other hand sought to free me from my skirt as I struggled with the snap of her jeans. A tumble of hands, hair and heaven, we rolled across the carpet bumping into furniture and dropping the remaining clothes about the floor. I ached for her. Each touch burned my skin with need. I grew slippery as she moved over me. Letting my knees part, her fingers stroked my alabaster thighs as she worked up the courage to touch my spread pussy. I kissed her deeply. My hands moved over her dark red nipples. Her breasts were pale compared to the rest of her well-tanned body. Slipping most of her mound in my mouth, I sucked in one tit as I kneaded the other. Still, her hand teased me threatening to not to invade my soppy pussy. The tension tore through me as I pulled the nipple from my mouth.
“I need you, now” I panted.
“Everyway possible,” I replied pushing her back against the floor.
My tongue slipped down from her breast, over her stomach, around the curve of navel and into the wet slit of her pussy. Tasting her pussy, I opened my mouth wide, at first, just to pull all I could. I buried my tongue as deep as it could stretch. I had to consume as much of her as possible. I wanted to melt into her. She pulled up in surprise at my eagerness before laying back. Then, she spread further. Finding control, I placed one hand on her lower stomach as I replaced my tongue with two fingers. Again, my mouth returned to spread over her clit. My fingers rocked in and out her body as I licked her tart saltiness. I traced the tiny bundle of nerves slipping down to tickle the top her hole and back. I ran this course with increasing speed. In my ears, I heard her moaning. I felt her fingers slip into my loose auburn waves as she ground her hips into my face. With each jerk, the pussy clasped and released over my fingers. Her fluid grew thicker on my tongue. I reveled in her. I buried my face into her matching every thrust of her hips. Driving deeper and sucking harder, I pushed her over the edge. Screaming out with abandonment, she shook her head back and forth and thrashed wildly in my arms. Her orgasm covered my cheeks, fingers and lips with clear dew.
Rolling to the side, I propped my head up on one elbow watching her enjoy the aftermath under closed eyelid. Her dark eyelashes fluttered open as her cheek plumped with a wicked grin. The fire bathed half her face in a soft orange glow. The stillness between us lasted only a few moments before she crawled over me. Her hair hung down around our faces. Her lips met mine before moving down to my chin. Wet and cool, her tongue worked down my frame lingering in the spots that made me want. She lifted my breasts from where they spread under my arms to burrow her face in their fullness. I could hear her inhaling as she pushed down between them. Meanwhile, her thumbs circled my hard nipples. Rising up from my cleavage, she moved from tip to tip pinching, sucking and nibbling the pink into a dark red. Her hips moved inside my spread legs pushing her pubic bone into my clitoris. I wrapped my legs around her. Straining, she moved against me. Our mouths met as we struggled to become one with each other. My wet pussy enveloped her curly soft mound. The soft squishing sound of my need suctioning to her sent me over the end. Grabbing tightly to the curve of her round bottom, I thrust into her calling out her name. A warm fuzzy tingling washed down my legs and over my chests. When I heard her call out for me, my body melted. Though, I somehow held on until she was motionless. A long silence stretched out between us.
“Are you okay?” I finally asked.
“Yea,” she muttered. “No…I don’t know.”
“It’s never like that.”
“Like chocolate?” I asked.
“Yea, like chocolate.”
I pulled her up beside me. Her small delicate frame nestled in the crook of my arm. We just stared at each other. Her large brown eyes promised me everything that I had been missing. I hoped mine said the same to her.