Justin and Erin - A Spark

It was the oldest cliché in the book, but that didn't make it any less accurate. Their eyes met across the crowded bar and, if not love at first sight, then there was certainly a spark.

-- Monday --

She was more pretty than beautiful, with shoulder length auburn hair that fell in soft cascades around her shoulders. Full lips complimented a face that on a man would be called 'horsey". Her nose was a little on the largish side for her face. And her eyes were a dark green, though they appeared almost black in the subdued lighting of the lounge. Taken individually, these parts seemed unappealing, but together, along with a sweet smile showing bright, even teeth, she was someone he would like to know better.

He was a business man, in town for two weeks and had arrived the previous afternoon. He had spent the day in the office, and now he was ready to relax with a libation or two. He was about 5'6", perhaps 180 pounds, not tall or rugged by any means. Not a physical fitness nut, he kept himself in reasonably good shape through being careful what he ate and drank, being more familiar than most with what a steady diet of restaurant food could do to the scale. Short, dark hair and wire-frame glasses and just a hint of five o'clock shadow completed his face. His charcoal gray suit was a bit on the rumpled side; he would need to have it pressed.

He left his stool and carried his drink around the bar to stand next to the young woman. He signaled the barman for another round for himself, and for whatever the lady was having, and he smiled. The young woman smiled at him, showing off those sweet white teeth and the faintest hint of dimples in her cheeks. Up close, he caught the hint of green in her eyes, and could catch the faint scent of her perfume, mingling with all the other odors in the bar. He returned her smile with one of his own and said, "Hello, my name is Justin. How are you?"

Her smile got even wider as she picked up her drink and tapped her glass to his in a small toast. "Hello Justin, I'm Erin, and it's very lovely to meet you." She took a small, careful sip. "And thank you for the drink. My first one was getting low." She gestured to the vacant stool next to her. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you Erin," he said, as he climbed onto the bar stool, never a graceful maneuver no matter who you are. Once he was settled he turned to face his drinking companion and began to take a more detailed look at her, trying not to stare to much, but also to see as much of her as he could.

The first thing he noticed was how petite she was. If she weighed more than 100 pounds, it wasn't by very much. And her figure, while nice, was not excessively overdone; she had nice breasts and nice hips to match, with a definite waist, but again, nothing to cause excessive eye strain on the male half of the population. She was wearing a white, silken blouse, tied at the neck with a dark-red bow, and apparently a chemise under it. Her skirt was knee length, modest, but attractive in a professional sort of way, and either navy blue or black; he wasn't sure in the shadows. She had every appearance of having just come from the office. Her suit jacket draped over one leg emphasized the point. And finally, she was wearing attractively practical shoes; black, patent leather pumps, but with only about a two inch heel.

He did not know why they had clicked; he just knew that they had. He didn't know where they would end up, but he was going to enjoy the ride as long as it lasted.

They talked for half an hour, and then an hour, sitting there on those barstools. Small talk of two business people filling time between working duties; shared experiences of bosses that appeared to be hopelessly inept; ditto on co-workers that didn't appear to have a clue; and bureaucratic red tape designed to impede more than it did anything useful.

The more they talked, the more Justin became enamored of Erin. Not just her appearance, delightful as it was. Despite her petite size, her voice was low for a woman, but soft and smooth, almost like honey as she spoke. Her laugh was low and throaty, not the high-pitched giggle of many women, which never failed to irritate him. Her eyes held interest, taking in everything he was saying. And the way she propped her chin on one hand, her manicured nails dark red in the shadows of the bar, and turned her whole attention on him... heavenly.

She had to regretfully decline when he asked her to dinner, pleading a prior engagement with some in-town friends. But she pointed out that they were both there for the week and she was sure they would see each other again. He stood with her as she prepared to leave the bar, held her coat for her as she slipped it on. She turned to face him, smiling again, and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. "It was very nice to meet you Justin. I'll see you again, I'm sure." And with that she turned to leave the bar, waving at two women who had just appeared. Soft laughs and giggles came from the trio as they went out the door and Justin watched them the whole way. Just before they were out of sight, Erin turned to look at him, one more time, and smiled.

-- Tuesday --

The next day just seemed to fly by for Justin. His work was done well and efficiently, as always, but his thoughts were on that last smile from Erin. He recognized his infatuation for what it was, but that didn't change the feelings. He wanted to see her again, and get to know her better. When he left work for the day, he immediately went back to the motel to clean up; shave again, shower, just improve his appearance. Then he went down to the lounge and sat at the bar and waited for her to show up.

When 10:00pm came, he regretfully conceded that she wasn't making an appearance tonight. With a heavy heart, he went to his room, his thoughts running around and around. He quickly undressed, placed a wake up call for the next morning, climbed into bed and settled down for a deep sleep.

-- Wednesday --

After a good night's sleep, and somewhat chastened from his experience the previous evening, he again went to work, dispatching his responsibilities in the professional manner for which he was known. But still, Erin's smile beckoned to him whenever his thoughts would drift. And the more he thought about it, the more he knew that, even if he didn't see her again, he would always remember her.

That evening, as he sat in the lounge, lost in his own thoughts, a familiar voice softy said, "Hello there Justin, did you miss me?", accompanied by that soft, low laugh. He turned quickly, almost spilling his drink. There she was! He smiled and stood, matching her chuckle with his own, and helped her onto the bar stool, before retaking his seat. He quickly ordered a drink for Erin, and they easily fell back into the conversation from Monday night.

She told him that work the previous day had simply been a bear, which is why she didn't make it to the lounge. She shivered as she remembered it. "Papers that should have been there simply weren't. People that should have had answers didn't have them. We ended up working until almost midnight trying to get the first draft of a presentation taken care of. Oh, it was horrible!" She took a sip of her drink, smiling as the alcoholic warmth slipped inside her. Quietly, almost as an aside, she murmured, "It wouldn't surprise me a bit if someone gets fired very soon. Or maybe several someones. Happily, that's not in my hands."

He expressed his commiseration with a nod of agreement and a soft chuckle. He still couldn't take his eyes off of her. Today she was wearing a smartly tailored navy blue pants suit; snug, but not too snug, highlighting and suggesting, rather than blatantly proclaiming, her physical virtues. Her white blouse with the camisole under it was a replica of Monday's, but the bow at her neck was a soft powder blue, with some kind of design in it that Justin couldn't quite make out. He noticed her jewelry today; a soft, black velvet choker obscured her throat, and short hanging earrings, with what appeared to be sapphires in them, finished the effect. He didn't notice any rings on her fingers, which surprised him somewhat, as it seemed decorating every finger with a ring was de rigeur for most women nowadays.

Following a short lull in the conversation, he asked her if she would like to have dinner with him. She smiled and said, "I thought you'd never ask." They finished their drinks and left the lounge, heading for the parking lot.

Over dinner, at a local steak house that the hotel recommended, their conversation continued. Justin was a little regretful over the restaurant. The food was excellent, but it was not, he thought, a place for romantic conversation. And his thoughts were definitely running in that direction. He didn't know if Erin's were, but he had hopes.

She told him of her life, and he told her of his. They talked about their college years and how they'd gotten into their lines of work. Adventures they'd had in college, even confessing, as one will sometimes to a stranger, intimate adventures they'd had in the past. Keeping his voice down, he related the time he'd woken up in bed with a fraternity brother, both of them naked and hung over. She wanted to laugh loudly, but an older couple two tables away had already shot them one glance over excessive noise.

Talk turned to their families. Justin told of his wife, how he'd met her in college, and how they'd settled down into the American dream. The house in the suburbs, the kids, and the white picket fence. Erin almost looked wistful as she listened to his stories of simple domesticity. Her family life was much simpler, a mom and dad that she rarely saw, and a kid sister that she saw even less. The way she talked about them, it was like she was just filling in a form; there was no emotion, no caring. "So I live in a condo, no yard, and someone else takes care of all the maintenance for me."

She took a long sip of her drink and asked, "Are you on the road a lot Justin?"

He nodded, "At least one week a month, sometimes two, every so often three. It gets very tiring and irritating sometimes." He chuckled softly. "You know about it. It's just all the petty little inconveniences that keep cropping up, and not being at home sleeping in your own bed."

She nodded, knowing and agreeing, murmuring to herself very softly, "And sleeping alone."

Justin wasn't sure he was supposed to have heard that last sentence, it was so barely audible. But he had a sudden flash of sadness for the young woman, a brief insight into her life. While he would at least go home to a loving wife and a warm bed, when she returned home, there was no one waiting for her. She would wake up alone in bed, whether at home or in a hotel. As the conversation continued, Justin pondered that, finding it horribly sad.

As they left the restaurant, it was beginning to get dusky. The sun was going down and the street lights were beginning to come on. Across from the restaurant was a small park, a place for children to play and couples to walk. Erin turned to Justin and asked, "Would you like to take a walk?"

He smiled, crooked his arm for her and said, "I'd be delighted."

She smiled again, not the happy, bright smile when he first met her, but the sad smile of a woman who was thinking too hard about too many things, and most of them unpleasant. She slipped her arm in his, walking beside him as they crossed the street. A passerby might have mistaken them for an old, married couple, so well did they fit together. When they reached the park, she leaned against him as they walked, her head resting on his shoulder. He smiled softly as he felt her hair, loose and blowing in the soft evening breeze, occasionally caress his neck. For a long time both were quiet, lost in their own thoughts, each simply enjoying the other's company.

Eventually, they came to a park bench, a place where mothers would sit to watch their children run around the playground, but right now agreeably empty. She motioned for them to sit, and they did. He sat first, taking her hand as she followed, nestling much closer to him than he had expected, but so pleased that she did. Her scent mingled with the flowers and trees in the evening air and it filled his nose with a heady aroma.

She was silent as she took her seat, her eyes downcast, still holding Justin's hand, resting it on her thigh. He was silent, content to enjoy the moment, but also sure she had something on her mind, something she wanted to talk about. The park was still, save for a soft breeze rustling the tree leaves. Traffic was just a distant murmur, easily ignored.

"Justin," she started haltingly, as she gathered her thoughts, "I would like to ask you a question, but, first... did you feel it? Monday night when we first saw each other?"

Justin thought back to that night, remembering sitting at the bar, looking across the way, and spotting her that first time. He remembered...

"You mean that... spark? Between you and I?" He smiled softly as she nodded at his words. "I thought that may have just been me. I see that it wasn't." In the darkness, he smiled, pleased there was a connection there, but anxious for his new friend, wondering what was troubling her.

She nodded, "Yes, that 'spark' as you call it, that connection we felt." She held his hand tightly as the thoughts ran through her mind in a jumbled. "Justin, I feel I should tell you something, but I'm scared." She was actually trembling next to him, and he couldn't imagine what her concern might be. He placed his other hand on top of hers and squeezed it tightly between them. His thoughts racing ahead, he thought he knew part of the problem.

"You've told others before and gotten a bad reaction? If I had to guess?" he murmured softly.

She looked up at him, a soft pain in her eyes and nodded.

He lifted her hand to his lips and softly kissed the delicate skin on the back of her hand, never taking his eyes from hers. She watched, almost hypnotized, as her hand rose, as his lips kissed, and as her hand was lowered again. When her hand was back on her thigh, she looked at him again, almost as if seeing him for the first time.

She took a deep breath, causing her breasts to rise, and to look even more beautiful. She slowly exhaled. "Justin, please take us back to the motel. There's something I need to show you."

An hour or so later, he walked through the long corridor of the motel on his way to Erin's room. She had asked him to give her some time to shower and refresh herself before he came up, and he had taken the opportunity to do likewise. Now, dressed in khaki slacks, a loose fitting sweater and sandals (all chosen for comfort) he approached her room and knocked on her door. There was a short pause, and then the door opened and there she was.

She took him by surprise. Her hair had been freshly washed and blow dried but she was still in her robe. He wasn't an expert, but she appeared to have removed her makeup and then re-applied just the essentials; some lipstick, perhaps a touch of blush and some perfume. Her robe was pulled tight; no glance of cleavage or bare leg showed. She blushed softly, perhaps having second thoughts, but she stepped back and invited him in. She was nervous, perhaps scared, even excited as well, and he still had no idea just what she wanted to tell him. But in the course of two short days he had come to care greatly for her. If he could help her he would. That spark can be a powerful thing.

She led him to the lounge chair and had him sit. She then sat, not in his lap, but on his knee, seeming to crave the contact with him, but reluctant to do too much. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly while Justin patiently waited. Softly, she began to speak, "Justin, in all my life I've only felt the spark with one other person. And that was two years and a thousand miles away from here on another business trip." Justin quietly took her hand in his and held it gently. "And she's still one of my best friends and I will always love and cherish her. But, you're the first man that has ever kindled the spark, and it excites me and scares me at the same time."

Smiling, she thought back to earlier that night. "When you told me your story about waking up in bed with your frat brother, well, I enjoyed it, It was a funny story." She smiled with soft merriment at the memory. "But, it also told me that sexual things weren't a big hangup for you, that you were pretty easy going. And that... that's important to me."

She hung her head, not looking at him. "I'm doing this all wrong, I'm probably scaring you. But, I don't know how else to do it." She suddenly looked up. "Do you want to leave? I won't blame you."

He took her hand in his again, lifting it to his lips and gently kissing the clean, scented skin. He smiled and shook his head. "I am easy going, and I care for you, and I want to help you if I can. No, I'm not leaving. Not until you get whatever it is off your chest."

She nodded her head and slowly stood. "Then I will simply need to show you." She turned her back to him and he could tell that she was fiddling with her robe. Then, with no warning, she held her arms straight, and the robe fell and puddled at her feet. Justin was suddenly presented with the graceful curve of Erin's shoulders, flowing down her back to her waist, then flaring out to her hips and her cute, firm derrière, and finally down to those long, toned legs that he had only glimpsed and imagined before. He took it all in in an instant, already feeling the stirrings in his loins.

And then she slowly turned around.

The first things he saw were her breasts, round and soft, a smallish B cup size, but well formed and sweetly enticing. Her nipples were not extended, she was not excited. He looked up at her eyes, and she was looking down, looking away, looking anywhere but at him.

His eyes flowed down her body, taking in her pleasing form, her soft, glowing skin, moving to the juncture of her thighs. And then he saw it, nestled in her pubic hair.

A cock.

A hermaphrodite, he thought with wonder!

Compared to most men, it was smallish, perhaps only an inch or so in its flaccid state. And, judging by her nipples, she was too scared and nervous to be excited.

A million thoughts suddenly raced through his mind at once. But two thoughts in particular seemed to take precedence: (1) do not laugh at its size, and (2) she's beautiful!

He smiled. She was still not looking at him, she was waiting for a reaction but scared to death what that reaction might be. Slowly, deliberately, he stood to walk to her. He stood before her. He took her hands in his, and leaned forward to lightly kiss her trembling lips. He smiled again, this time for her eyes as well as himself. Whispering softly, his lips a hairs breadth from her ears, "You are so beautiful little Erin! So very beautiful indeed!" He took her hand and led her back to the chair. Sitting down, he pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close.

She kissed him, tentatively. Then again, and again, and again, growing more passionate with each kiss, her nipples growing at the realization of an age-old dream came true! She had found someone who could accept her as she was! She began to cry, burying her face in his shoulder, deep sobs running through her body.

Justin let her cry, not trying to stop her, simply comforting her. Stroking her back, her hair, her arms, making those meaningless noises that all men make when they don't have a clue what to say; when one's presence is all that's really required and words are meaningless.

She whispered in his ear, "Please, stay with me tonight. I don't want to wake up alone."

Justin held her in his arms, and she languorously wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him gently. Kissing him with a passion that was only growing stronger. Standing and picking her up, carrying her to the bed as a husband would carry his new bride over the threshold, he gently laid her on the coverlet, then proceeded to remove his own clothes. With practiced ease, the sweater came off and dropped to the floor. His sandals quickly followed suit, and finally his khakis and boxers joined them. She shifted over just a little bit to give him room to climb into the bed next to her. As Justin looked at her, she couldn't take her eyes or her hands off him. Constantly touching, caressing, stroking, his hair, his face, his chest, his arms, seemingly trying to prove that he was truly there, not just a figment of her imagination.