AnAngelReally
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Sep 21, 2013
- Posts
- 2,656
199 words
I love to read in the coffee shop near the College. Read people, that is.
I sit in the corner with my ereader, hiding behind mirror Ray Bans, head lowered, eyes roaming.
The petite brunette is a regular. We have our routine. We greet, exchange a few words, retreat in our private worlds.
I’m shy. She’s the one who said hello first.
She was sad these last days. I found her cell number, texted anonymous uplifting messages. They made her smile. Too briefly.
Today, she glows, smiles at me brightly. She beams as she reads on her cell, touches the screen to her lips.
She leans on her table, touches her breast surreptitiously. Her fingers pinch her nipple. She’s flustered. The blush reaches down in her blouse. Fantasy or memory?
She fidgets on her chair, rubs her thighs together, then comes to a decision. She looks my way. I don’t react. We’re alone in the far corner.
Hand below the table, she unzips, reaches in. She’s good, only her wrist moves.
Our soft orgasms are synchronous, we smile at each other, lick our fingers, gazes locked.
She kisses my cheek on her way out.
I can’t wait for tomorrow.
I love to read in the coffee shop near the College. Read people, that is.
I sit in the corner with my ereader, hiding behind mirror Ray Bans, head lowered, eyes roaming.
The petite brunette is a regular. We have our routine. We greet, exchange a few words, retreat in our private worlds.
I’m shy. She’s the one who said hello first.
She was sad these last days. I found her cell number, texted anonymous uplifting messages. They made her smile. Too briefly.
Today, she glows, smiles at me brightly. She beams as she reads on her cell, touches the screen to her lips.
She leans on her table, touches her breast surreptitiously. Her fingers pinch her nipple. She’s flustered. The blush reaches down in her blouse. Fantasy or memory?
She fidgets on her chair, rubs her thighs together, then comes to a decision. She looks my way. I don’t react. We’re alone in the far corner.
Hand below the table, she unzips, reaches in. She’s good, only her wrist moves.
Our soft orgasms are synchronous, we smile at each other, lick our fingers, gazes locked.
She kisses my cheek on her way out.
I can’t wait for tomorrow.