by Cinthia Ritchie
(11/21/01)
7:15 a.m.
The Alarm!
Oh, just a few more minutes, please? Punch the snooze button. Ten more minutes. Ah, delicious, sleep. Drifting off. Sunlight, smells of sage and musk. Dancing, someone is dancing....
A hand sneaks up my thigh, whose hands? Mine, ah, yes mine. Morning, not much time. Hurry. Quick and fast. A small one. That's all? Finished? The alarm again: I guess I am.
9:07 a.m.
Coffee and Pastries
Late, but no one notices. Coffee smells hot and sharp. Sit at my desk and nibble an orange donut. All that cream over my fingers, my tongue tickling my skin. Little bites, suck a bit. Trying to wake up.
Lick my fingers again. More little bites. Can taste my lipstick, thick and tangy. Pretend I'm kissing someone, a long kiss. Itch of just-shaved chin. Scratchy and rough: oh, that's good.
10:23 a.m.
At the Water Cooler
That middle-aged man in the plaid shirt, Jim? John? Pale skin. Fine black hairs climbing his arms and disappearing under shirt sleeves. Imagine his chest, shock of dark hair against white skin. Soft beneath my hands, my tongue burrowing like a little animal.
Stand right behind him, up close. The tanned crease of his neck, a little cut behind his ear. Breathe against his back, reach out and brush against him: do I dare? I do. He turns, stumbles against me. Lean down, my shirt dipping lower. Does he see my breasts, my cream-colored bra straps? Imagine him biting it off with his teeth. In the conference room. Dark smells of paper and spilled coffee. Mouths pressed until I can hardly breathe. His ass firm and steady, so nice. Fingers digging his skin, untucking his shirt. Warm skin, hair over his chest, across his back. My little bear. Growling. Sitting on the edge of the table, legs up, dress pulled to my waist.
Underpants ripped. Inside me now, ah yes, hot and big and good. Nips, pats, little humming growls. Oh, my hairy man, my wild bear. Oh yes.
Water spilling over the floor; how long have I been standing here? Flushed, shoes wet. Did I moan, did I really do that, out loud, right here?
11:17 a.m.
In the Bathroom
Quiet in here, watermelon air freshener. Sweet, like summer. Watermelon juice dripping down my chin, seeds flat and hard against my tongue. Pull up my skirt, sit down on the cool toilet seat, pale domes of knees staring at me. Pee: ah, that feels good. Wipe, my hand between my legs, those soft, hungry folds. Rub a few more times. Yes, that feels nice. Just a little bit more.
Creak of the door, footsteps clicking across the floor. Keep rubbing, but slower, slower now. Pair of sensible black pumps settling in the next stall. Conservative beige hose. Press my fingers harder to the sound of her peeing, small fart, more pee. Suck in my breath: almost there. Her clothes shuffling, pumps marching back out. If she knew, oh, if only she knew!
Slow down, make it last, these last few minutes, seconds. It's an agony, so slow, making myself wait. So sweet. Aaah....
Someone calling me, loud, demanding. A supervisor, looking for me. Drop my hands, smooth my skirt, flush. Step out of the stall, face in the mirror flustered, hair scattered. Don't wash my hands. Carry my smell back through the office. The men, oh the men's eyes following me!
Noon
Eating Lunch
Chew sunflower seeds at my desk, watching the woman who may be a lesbian. Beautiful dark hair, arms gliding from her shoulders. Hips moving beneath slacks, nice round ass.
How she would taste: tart, salty. Like the sea. A few tiny hairs in my mouth. Like eating myself. Good warm tastes. Safe, damp place between spread legs. Another woman. This woman. In bed. No, bearskin rug. Glow of fire. Licking her, licking me. Her tongue and my tongue. Face wet, so wet.
Slippery. Ah, slippery and fast, faster now. Sliding, sliding my finger in her. Thick muscles, warm like a cave. Nice, so nice. Tiny nips, harder now. Pressing down on my face, almost hurts. Almost. Little waves, bigger now. Waves across my face, my tongue.
Afterward, suck her nipples, head pressed to her chest. Sucking and pulling, my hand between her legs. Wet and thick, thicker now.
Sweet girl, ah, sweet, sweet girl.
1:18 p.m.
Phone Call
Lost a file. Where? Search cabinets and drawers, empty waste basket. Find a crumbled phone number in someone else's handwriting. Pick up the phone, punch the number. A man's voice, low and careful.
"Hello? Hello?" Silence. "Is that you? Hello?"
"Yes," whispering, "yes, it's me."
Silence. "Tell me," glancing around to make sure no one hears. "Tell me what you want me to do."
More silence, but breathing, quick breathing. "Tell me how you want me to touch you."
2:12 p.m.
Working Out
Music loud, serious crowd. Work hard, pounding treadmills, fighting weights. He's here, blue-shorted man. Always wears blue Nikes, so short I can almost see his balls. Legs long and lean, beautiful. Golden hairs across his arms. Delicious, so delicious. Running side by side, sweat mixing, breathing hard. A cruel lover. Yeah, cruel. Tie me up. Yellow scarves. Too tight, cut my wrists. Burning my wrist. Make me burn.
I make too much noise and he has to spank me. Oh yes, over his lap, palm slapping my bare ass. More slaps, stings. Oh, wet, so wet, dripping over his lap. Fingers inside me, rough, rough. Jerking. Don't stop, ah. Please, don't, don't, don't stop. Stops. Won't fuck me. Please, please? Crawl, hands behind back, crawl to him, lover-daddy, candyman, crawling, knees aching, so wet,
dripping, dripping for him. Throws me on the floor, face down, ass up in the air. From behind. Oh God, yes, oh yes, oh don't stop, don't please...
Treadmill stops, time's up. Legs shaking, good workout. Shower time, small bars of soap, so nice between my legs. So, so nice to be clean.
3:30 p.m.
A little Snack
Peanuts, crackers. Grape juice poured in glass. Purple-dark. Like the taste of sex. Spill some over white blouse. Clumsy. But pretty, dark color. Pretty, pretty over my breasts. Naked on a bed. Whose? Some man's. Faceless. Dark skin, white, white teeth. Pouring wine over me, swirling color over skin. Painting me. Fingertips light, tickling. Ah, right there, it's nice right there. Sticky and red over chest and belly. Cool between my legs, so cool. Touching me there. Fingers warm, wine cool. Dipping his cock in wine, inside me now, sticky and red, out again, back in the wine, in me. Hot and cool, so hot. Ah, sticky hot cool. Good.
5:30 p.m.
Quitting Time
Elevator full. Press up against man with briefcase. Can't see his face, just the bland outline of hair, cut straight. Tanned neck. Collar starched and perky. Serious man, no nonsense. Elevator jerks and I bump against him, breasts pressed to his back.
Sixth floor. More people get on. Fifth floor. More. Pressed tight, can barely move. Nice, so nice how this man smells. Can feel the shape of his ass against my belly. Rub a little. Just a little. Does he know? Another rub, almost moan. Maybe I do, softly, in his ear? Another rub, slower, pressing. Shifts, steps back against me. He knows, ah, he knows.
Ground floor. Everyone off, I don't get to see his face. Nice, oh nice smelling man.
6:30 p.m.
Driving Home
Cops, those uniforms. Tight across ass and crotch. Thighs muscular and beefy, like a good cut of meat. Hungry, mouth almost watering. That young one there, his car stopped next to me. Traffic stalled. Hot, so hot. See in his window. Ledger on passenger seat, pens, balled up paper. Holster against his thigh, cold metal. My hand beneath my skirt. Does he know, can he tell? Gun sliding up my thigh, cold, so cold. Sliding beneath my panties, tip of the gun rubbing, rubbing. Wet from me. Oh, rubbing more and more. Sliding in me. Hurts, so cold. But warmer now. Warmer. Hard and metal, slow like smell of gunpowder. Lick it afterward. Still warm. Metallic tastes.
Horns honking, what? Time to go now. Drop my skirt, step on the gas, almost hit the minivan in front of me.
7:45 p.m.
Lover Calls
"Dinner?"
"Too tired."
"Blockbuster?"
"Yeah, sure."
Clean underpants, sexy bra: still in that phase. Drink wine and wait. Almost asleep in chair. He walks in with smells of outside. Movies, bag of chips. Nuzzles my neck, teeth biting. Lovely, lovely man. Lift my head. Touching, kissing. Clothes falling off. His tongue between my legs, wet, nice, drifting off. So nice to sleep like this.
Hard shake, his breath smelling like me.
"Wake up," open my eyes, his face, ah, his face. Concerned, worried, angry.
Touch him, there, like that. Just like that; know what he likes, how to press. Little harder right here, almost too hard but not quite. Stay awake. Just a little bit longer, he's almost there. Almost. Almost.
Collapses on me, weight heavy and nice. I can sleep now. His mouth on my ear, nibbling, looking for a bite; not tonight. He stops, sighs. Whispers softly, accusingly.
"Baby, oh baby, you work too hard."
