What a Beautiful Day – By Desdmona
I strolled along Main Street and every so often glanced at
my reflection in shop windows. Even I could see the bit of
bounce in my step. I was full of energy and knew it was from
the wonderful morning I had spent with Jimmy.
He woke up horny and needy, then woke me up as well. The
sexy smell of sleep, arousing as foreplay, clung to his
skin. A tug on my breast, a tweak of my nipple, and I was
squirming. His body was warm and smooth, free from the
tension that showed when the stress of a day wore on.
I started to speak and Jimmy whispered, “Shh, don’t say
anything. Just feel,” and I did. His hand splayed across my
belly and his nimble fingers massaged, ever so slightly,
whisking closer and closer to my line of pubic hair.
He kissed my neck with fevered lips, his breath igniting my
blood beneath. His fingers slipped further downward, and I
let them, encouraged them in fact, by opening my legs wide.
I loved that feeling when you open your legs and your labia
part. Air rushes in. Cool against heat.
That’s exactly how it was. I’m not sure if I’d ever told
Jimmy how good it felt to open my legs wide, but Jimmy has a
way of knowing what I like. Sometimes, though, it was fun to
say it aloud just to see his shocked reaction.
“You make me want to spread my legs,” I might whisper, and
wait for his moan.
But not this morning. This time, as his fingers delved
deeper, I didn’t speak, because he’d asked me not to.
Time didn’t stand still, but it did feel like we were suspended
in slow motion. I noticed every nuance. He used the pads of
his fingers instead of the tips, pressing and petting. His
middle finger did most of the work, swirling and swirling.
His morning beard scratched my neck like prickly heat. His
easy breaths deepened to exaggeration. Tiny hairs on his arm
brushed against the inner part of my thigh. His penis
twitched and thudded against my outer leg.
Often our lovemaking was fast and physical, rushing against
the clock, ending in sweaty, tired muscles. This time it was
leisurely touching.
It was natural for me to grab his penis and match him touch
for touch. Small droplets of pre-cum trickled from his
penis. With the pad of my middle finger, I smeared it
around. Swirling. Petting. Finger painting.
He fingered inside my folds and dipped into my vagina.
Squishy noises echoed. I wrapped my hand around his shaft.
His pulse beat wildly against it. We lay there together,
side by side, masturbating the other in rhythm. It was
personal and beautiful, and it was love. Without discussing
it, we tried to come together. My clitoris was too greedy.
My hunger too deep. I edged past him to the finish, but
barely.
And now eight hours later, I was still feeling the power of
the morning. What a beautiful day.
Jimmy called and asked me to meet him for dinner. He hinted
he had a serious question to ask. All afternoon I wondered
if the question was about marriage.
Jimmy had never taken the plunge. I had, once, for a very
brief and ugly time. But that was a long time ago. Jimmy
and I had been together for two years. It was time to move
the relationship along. Or so I thought.
As I walked, I grew confident that by the end of the
evening, I would be engaged. It made me grin.
The sun was extraordinarily intense and reflected off the
cars like glittering diamonds. A woman passed and the breeze
grabbed hold of her perfumed scent, tossing it back to my
nose – sweet mixed with woodsy. Busy street sounds played
like an orchestra finely directed. A beautiful day.
I stepped inside the restaurant, half expecting a dark room
full of ambiance – perfect for a marriage proposal. Instead
it was light. In fact, the sun shone so brightly through the
windows, it was difficult to see Jimmy sitting at a small
booth.
He stood. “Hiya, baby,” he said, knowing I loved it when
he called me baby.
He kissed me on the cheek and nodded toward my seat. He
clasped my hands in his across the table. His hands were
moist. Jimmy was nervous.
“You know, baby,” he said. “There’s something I need to ask
you.”
The waitress interrupted. Jimmy let go of my hands and
sighed. It was adorable. We ordered drinks but put off
ordering our food. He grabbed my hands again and instead of
continuing his speech, he just stared at me.
Jimmy always had a dreamy look – bedroom eyes- something
about their color of blue, or maybe it was the absence of
lines around them. He gazed at me now as if to hypnotize me
with those dreamy eyes. I didn’t dare speak. He made tiny
circles in my palms with his fingertips, and I was reminded
of our morning.
He was turning me on. My nipples itched. My panties were
damp. I wanted to scream at him to just ask me. The waitress
would be back soon, and we’d have to deal with menus.
Finally, he spoke. “Baby, I want to ask you something, and I
want you to think about it. Promise me you won’t say a word
until you’ve thought about it?”
I nodded, trying to be as serious as he.
“OK, here goes,” he began. He wasn’t on his knees.
“I’ve been wondering for a very long time…” his grip on my
hands tightened.
“If…” He licked his lips. I opened mine.
“Can we, um, well, can we…” He let out his breath. I held
mine.
“Can we get a dog?” He smiled. My mouth dropped open.
Did he really just ask me to get a dog? I started to laugh.
A little at first, and then uncontrollably.
“What’s so funny,” he asked.
But I refused to tell him. How could I?
We ordered our food – pasta primavera, garlic toast, salad –
and agreed on a dog – English springer spaniel. The meal
zipped past.
Jimmy had to rush back to his office, something about
forgotten papers, and told me he would see me at home. He
brushed the hair from my eyes, held his face to mine,
cheek-to-cheek, and then he was gone.
I left the restaurant disappointed. Clouds had moved in, and
it began to drizzle. I poked along staring at raindrops as
they smacked against the pavement. A man in a hurry tried to
wedge past me and growled when bumping me slowed his stride.
I reached my car and spotted a pink slip on its windshield.
Great. A parking ticket to boot.
I grabbed the slip and glanced at it. In bold black letters,
written in familiar penmanship, were the words: “DON”T WE
HAVE TO BE MARRIED TO HAVE A DOG?”
What a beautiful day!