The Bad Day

Outside it was still pouring rain, my umbrella dangled from one of my wrists and I reached for it, I didn't even know yet where we were going.

I managed to get a step out into the dark grey wet evening when he suddenly pulled me into the niche by the station door and the entrance to the arcade and the Waitrose, which I would have usually walked through to cut through to my street. Pressing me into the corner where the flower lady usually stood. Here in the semi privacy of the dark corner he seemed to tower over me, his body crowding mine up against his. I was completely breathless.

His lips, the top one deceptively thin, the bottom one full and so seductively soft was suddenly on mine, devouring my mouth in the most drugging kiss I have ever experienced. Hot, wet, hungry, everything I hadn't had in too long. One of his hands slipped into my hair, the other one pulling me even closer, wrapping around my waist, pressing himself tighter against me. His erection prodded me in the belly and I gasped, opening my mouth even wider to his advances. My own hands buried themselves in his cashmere sweater, loving the glorious softness against my hands.

The kiss went on and on and on, till I couldn't breathe and didn't care. He tasted like coffee and smoke and something vaguely sweet, like melted caramel on my tongue. His hands had begun roaming, cupping a breast, my hip, a thigh. I finally allowed my hands to bury themselves into his hair, sliding my fingers into the deep mass, around the shape of his skull, fitting my nose along his, my cheek brushing his, feeling the slight stubble of a long day since his last shave against my smoother ones.

I didn't think I would be able to speak at all after this kiss, my vocal chords would surely be lost in his exploration.

He finally, reluctantly slowed the kiss. Resting against me for a moment, mouth against my cheek, he said, "why don't we forget the drink", I nodded, and this time I took his hand and led him down the street to my flat.