Did I mention yet that I like bandanas?
I mean, I know it's probably a sign of something wrong with me, but I couldn't stop thinking about the bandana waif. Slight southern accept. Smiled easily while averting the eyes. Skinny-looking even in clothing, which of course meant she was a corpse beneath the cloth.
It was just three days ago, but I've replayed the scene countless times, my heart pounding in my chest anew each time, my groin stirring.
I walked from this desk into the bedroom while she made the bed, moving quietly enough that I took her by surprise when I said, "excuse me", just a couple feet behind her. She twirled around like a ballerina, that little triangular bandana flap in the back revealing tremors of excitement.
"Oh!" Pursing her lips, she looked down at the pillow in her hands, smoothing it, her eyes darting about a bit.
"I was hoping for a few more regular coffee bags, if that's okay."
"Oh, yes. Definitely." She wisped by me effortlessly. She charmed gravity - teasing it, slipping between its fields. She was back in a snap.
"Here you go. Is four enough?"
"Yes. Thank you."
Like the main character in The Mask, she was suddenly bedside, slightly bent, placing the pillow where it belonged. Her chest wasn't much more than a boyish board. Her arms were kindling.
"How long have you worked here?"
She patted the pillow into perfection with Death's left hand.
"About a month. I needed a change. Well, I need a lot of change. I've been in this dumpy town my whole life. I figured hanging out with visitors might be a cheap way to experience elsewhere."
"Yeah, there's not much to this town. Especially with what's going on with the car companies."
"You got that right."
She used to be my type, but then I grew up around age 45, finally finding real women with real curves attractive. But I felt some big-time backsliding coming on.
I slowly walked to the bed, turned, and sat down on it, without looking at her.
"Yeah. It's very familiar. I didn't go to college right away. I guess in a lot of ways I didn't really believe others would take it all so seriously, the growing up, the getting jobs, getting married, having kids. All that. It just seemed like maybe my class figured it out. We were free. The rules didn't apply to us."
She walked over, in front of me, arms folded, her head cocked, nodding. Feint strands of oily hair escaped like fine ebony silk from the bandana near her temples.
"Exactly! It still seems so weird to me. All that stuff seems like some kind of nightmare. I don't get it. I don't want to get it."
I looked up and lost my breath. Her ghostly skin was slightly flushed at her cheeks.
I began imaging her on top of me, how easy it would be to guide her hips over me, all of a hundred pounds of flesh, and mostly bone.
I held out my hand and said, "Sometimes you just have to live."
The moment was awkward, but not for long. Her bewilderment quickly morphed into relief, then naughtiness. She stepped closer, and touched my hand. Our free hands soon found each other. Then I pulled her down slowly. She fell like a tissue, all slow-motion and grace.
Rolling around a bit, enjoying each others mouths, we each fumbled with our pants and underwear. My oversized shorts from a previous girlfriend's son rolled over the bottom edge of the bed, thudding against the floor. Her baggy work pants seemingly removed themselves, as though they didn't belong there in the first place.
Her legs were firm and taut as I had expected, and white as the background of google.com. Her hips were narrow, but the gap between her legs still a pleasantly startling representation of desire, of something missing. I was sure I knew what it was. She closed her eyes and moaned as my left hand covered her hairy mound, and slowly drew upwards, fingers lightly grazing pussy. Wasting no time, they began exploring her lippy things, glorying in moisture detected, surveying the path to eternal life.
"I want to fuck you so badly!", I said, to which she pulled toward me, clinging to me for dear life.
"Oh, yes. Fuck me. Fuck me now!"
My penis was already grotesquely swollen, too full a water balloon. I rolled onto my back and pulled her over me, grasping frantically at her tiny ass globes, too hasty for a one point landing. Vocally grunting her impatience, she repositioned herself, sliding my dick through her crevice, finding my tip. Then she impaled herself. We both groaned in relief.
I was going to cum quickly, and wanted not a drop of it wasted anywhere but in her sweet belly. My fingers digging into her ass, I thrust her off and on my pole like a madman, amidst her squirming pelvic gyrations. Our instincts knew exactly where my seed belonged, as though from the beginning of time.
In seconds, we both climaxed in frenzied spasms. My testicles felt like an accordian, pumping a pint of restless cum into her quivering womb with each contraction. It went on for what seemed like a reproductive eternity.
She collapsed on top of me. Her bandana had slipped down, scarcely gathering her black hair into a thick, loose pony behind her head. My groin still made tiny thrusts into her sopping mound, and twitched at random intervals. We layed together like that for several minutes.
She slowly raised up while maintaining her straddle, and removed her bandana altogether. She folded it, and placed it near my nose. It smelled of clean hair, slightly perfumed.
"Keep this", she said. "Keep this and remember me. This is my last day here. I don't even know where I'm going. But maybe you'll find me with this, like when a dog is given a piece of someone's clothing. Come find me, and we'll see what's meant to be."
"I don't think I can wait."
She smiled, and got off of me, pulling the bandana from my hands, and wiping it between her legs. She handed it back with a wink.
"You'll wait, and I'll be worth it."
She put her pants back on, and left.
